Dandelions and Fire
by Boy With the Bread
Summary: "Why do you stay with him?" I laughed. Only he could ask a question like that after fifteen years. "Because every time he looses himself, he always finds his way back to me. One thing he'll never forget is that he loves me."
1. Homecoming

_**Summary: Fifteen years after the Second Rebellion, Peeta and Katniss finally believe their lives are calming down. Katniss's nightmares have almost come to a stop and Peeta's episodes are very few and far between. But, of course, nothing will ever be calm in their lives. The arrival of a familiar face threatens to shake up the Mellark family…and tear it apart.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

**Chapter 1: Homecoming**

* * *

><p><em>I'm coming home, I'm coming home<em>

_Tell the world I'm coming home_

_Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday_

_I know my kingdom awaits and they've forgiven my mistakes_

_I'm coming home, I'm coming home_

_Tell the world I'm coming home_

"_Coming home" by Ditty Dirty Money_

* * *

><p>Some things never change. You can be gone for ages, but when you come back, everything is just as you left it. Of course it isn't <em>exactly <em>the same. Visually, this place has changed. The buildings, homes, even the streets look different. But underneath it all, it is the same place it has always been. The citizens may not be the wealthiest, but have the means to feed their families and keep them alive now. The people here are no longer on the brink of starvation, knocking on death's door. Still, the faces are the same. They are those who I grew up with or watched me grow up. There are new faces in this crowd; as well as some missing. I can't expect everyone I once knew to be alive since my departure.

I wonder now how much has truly changed. I know I have. I hate to admit it, but I am not the same person I was when I decided to leave my home and everyone and everything I knew with it. I still find myself asking if I had done the right thing when I decided to leave District 12. There are times when I actually have to convince myself that I did make the right choice. Those are the times when I find myself so frustrated with my life and work, I am damn near ready to pack it all up and go home. But where exactly is home for me now? I am from the Seam in District 12, true, but I have life almost as long in District 2. Fifteen years. What do I have to show for my fifteen years away from District 12?

Honestly, not much. I wanted my new life to be better in District 2 than it had been in 12. In a lot of ways, it was. I had figured out who I was born to be – a soldier. In the War for Panem, I was considered a rebel. My commitment to the cause and willingness to do whatever it took to win, it all supported my career choice. If I had never taken the job to work in the military in District 2, I would have never met Gwen.

Gwen. She was a rarity. A District 2 native, but also a rebel in the war. Both her parents were tributes in the Hunger Games, both walking out victorious. Her brother, on the other hand, had not been so lucky. He was eighteen, his final eligible year to be reaped. When his name had not been called out, he leapt forward to volunteer. He was eager to live in his parents' glory. The only difference was when he came home. Needless to say, he returned to District 2 in a wooden box. Well, what was left of him anyway.

At first, Gwen was bitter. She despised her brother's killer, wishing them a horrible, painful, slow death. But as the war raged on and the people of Panem were forced to take sides, she began to see the Capitol for what it really was. The Capitol designed the Games. The Capitol forced children to fight and kill each other. The Games killed her brother. The Games had killed her brother. Therefore, the Capitol killed her brother.

I worked with Gwen for two years before I gathered the courage to ask her out. Eventually, we got married. We were happy for the most part. It just didn't work out between us. We put our work before each other and stuck it out for as long as we did because neither of us wanted to admit we had failed. After ten years together, we divorced. We're still friends. Maybe that's all we were ever meant to be. But I do not regret the years we had together and I will always love her. I really did love her. She just thought that I was still in love with someone else.

I can't say she was wrong. It would be too great of a lie to say otherwise. The first girl I ever loved would always be my greatest. Many people called her many things. She was the Mockingjay, the Girl on Fire, the Capitol's biggest nuisance, a rebel. But to me, she would always be Catnip. Katniss Everdeen had stolen my heart when I was a boy and never truly gave it back. I loved her for a long time; longer than I care for her to know. There are things, although, that will she will never forgive me for. Things to this day I do not know if they were my fault. I can't blame her though. If the tables had been turned, I would react just the same.

As I walk through the streets of District 12, I feel more and more at home. I see Greasy Sae in a rocker by her stand. I can't believe she's still alive. It must be the decades of wild dog meat keeping her alive. I am glad she is though. I wonder if she would remember me as I approach the stand. Her eyes are closed as she rocks gently back and forth. If she knows she has a customer, I doubt it. "Sammy," she calls, her eyes still shut. "Customer."

I chuckle as a woman a few years younger than me walks out of the back. "Sorry," the woman I can only assume to be Sammy apologizes, "can't let the soup burn." She takes one look at my uniform and I can see her tense a little. I remember her now. She's Greasy Sae's granddaughter.

Then I remember the day District 12 was bombed. Soldiers in uniforms exactly like mine – along with some Peacekeepers – marched right into our streets, bolting some doors so their inhabitants couldn't escape. Hundreds of people died because of soldiers before me. Including Sammy's parents. And the Mellarks. I lower my gaze to the coins in my hand, passing them from palm to palm, hoping the girl remembers who I am.

"A bowl for the road, _sir_?" she asked, the last word dripping from her lips as if they were acid.

"Please," I reply as I clear my throat. I place the coins on the counter and take my bowl.

"I'll want that bowl back Gale," Greasy Sae grumbles, her eyes still shut.

I can't help but smile. She does remember me. "Of course, Sae. I'll eat here if you want."

"The get up bothers Sammy. Take it off or go away. I don't care which. I just want my bowl back."

I chuckle as I remove my hat and uniform shirt, placing them both on the stool beside me as I occupy another. This only slightly eases Sammy. She knows who I am, but the uniform associates with a far too unpleasant memory. I don't blame her for her unease. I couldn't believe it when I took the job at first either. I make small talk with Sammy. Sae jumps into the conversation every once and a while, but never for long. I finish my soup and thank them both for the meal. I retrieve my shirt and hat and continue my journey. I stop as I begin to approach where the Seam used to be. Only, it's not the Seam anymore. There is no distinction between the Seam and Merchant Section. The houses all look alike. It's just the people that help to tell the two areas apart.

Those from the Seam still have dark hair, olive skin, and gray eyes. The others donned blonde hair and blue eyes, bearing the "Merchant Section" look. Not that it mattered anymore. Everyone co-existed. Poverty no long reared its ugly head over these modest people. Still, they knew where they came from. They never forgot their humble beginning or nightmarish past. Perhaps fear of history repeating itself keeps them from wanting more. They ration their food and money, savoring the fact that it is available to them.

I can feel a million pairs of eyes on me. Everyone is looking in my direction, some even stopping to stare and point. I hear whispers all around me. "Gale? What's he doing back?" I can hear them say. Or, "That's him – the Seam boy that went to District 2." Above all, I hear on question asked most: Does she know? I can only wonder who they mean by "she." I know some refer to my mother. I write to her constantly and we talk on the phone occasionally. We talk about our lives, but we avoid a few painful subjects; the two biggest being Katniss and, shockingly, my younger brother Rory. He still hasn't forgiven the mistakes I made fifteen years ago.

I make a mental note to find my mother later. I haven't exactly told her I was home yet. My journey continues to the large homes beyond the other residential area of District 12. These twelve homes were all that were left standing after the bombing. They belonged to District 12's tributes that made it home after the Games. Victor's Village.

I can feel the knots in my stomach tightening. Am I mad for coming here? What am I expecting? I laugh to myself as I make sure my dress shirt is fixed properly. I know exactly what I am doing here and what I expect from it. And yes, I am mad for wanting such things. Originally, only three homes were occupied here. One for each victor of the long gone Hunger Games. The longest home to be occupied here belongs to Haymitch Abernathy, the winner of the 50th Hunger Games, also known as the Second Quarter Quell. He was a drunk, but who can blame him. He never meant to defy the Capitol. He was just doing what they expected him to do: trying to stay alive. He returned home to find all the people he loved – his mother younger brother, and girlfriend – had been killed by the Capitol for outsmarting them. He was forced to relive and endure the darkness that came with winning the Games alone. So he turned to alcohol.

I am a bit surprised to see that the home I know to have been Peeta's to be dark and virtually unlived in. The front yard has been maintained, but looking through the windows, you could see there is no furniture or lighting of any kind inside. My mother made it a point to avoid talk of Peeta Mellark when we spoke or wrote, though I know she was fond of the Baker's son. Upon returning from the Games, Peeta had sent a loaf of bread to my home while I was working at the mines. My mother would slice it before I got home so I could not shove it in the baker's son's face. He knew what I meant to Katniss and he wanted to be sure no one went hungry at my family's table.

I thought it was charity at first. Or perhaps he was mocking me because he and Katniss had kissed and slept beside each other for weeks. But even little Posy knew his true motives. "He's such a nice boy," she was say dreamily. And it's true. It was hard to hate someone who truly wanted to do good in the world, but I managed.

Part of me hoped he had packed up and moved away, but reminder of the smell of delicious fresh bread in the Market section as I passed earlier dashed my hopes. Besides, I had seen the bakery myself. No one other than the Mellark family ran a bakery in the District for as long as we could all remember. I try to not think about the Mellark family. Not because of Peeta, but because of the screams, pleas, and begging coming from the bakery the day the bombs had been dropped. Again, another story for another time.

I snap back to reality and stare at Katniss's home, which stands beside Haymitch's. The house is surrounded by life – literally. Primroses line the front and sides of the home and dandelions, of all things, sprinkle the front lawn. I stand at the end of the pathway, staring up at the porch that leads to the front door and tell myself, "This is it."

I'm about to head up the path when I hear a tiny voice yell, "Whadyawant?" I look down as I feel something poking my leg a moment after. There, at my feet, is a chubby little blonde boy, poking me with a broken tree branch. He keeps repeating his question to me as he jabs at my leg.

"Hey, hey, stop that now," I say to him. But it's useless. He won't stop until I tell him whadiwant. I grab the stick from his hands and he looks up at me with fury. Suddenly, I'm staring down a tiny version of someone I wasn't so fond of. He is definitely his father's son. His face is round and chubby from dozens of sweets his father let him indulge in. He's angry, but his face is still gentle and friendly. He looks just like his father, except for one little detail. His eyes.

I can hear the front door turning a few yards away as the owner prepares to step out. I am torn from the little boy's gaze, looking up in hopes to catch my first glimpse at my childhood love. The girl that walks out of the house stops my heart. It's the face I've been longing to see, but many years younger. Her dark hair is even in a braid, flung carelessly over her shoulder as she clutches the straps of her backpack. When she looks up, I realize that like the boy, her eyes are not the same as I would have expected. Before I can recover from my shock, he joins us. His head is hung as he fumbles with his keys. There is something smeared along the side of his right arm. He's taller than I remember, but only slightly.

"I promise, Juliet, your mother is coming," he says, his eyes still cast down. He pokes his head back into the house and shouts, "Katniss! We have to get going! Your daughter's getting impatient."

"Poppa," the girl named Juliet says, "who's that with Aden?"

"Haymitch."

"No it's not."

I can tell he's making a face by the way the top of his head moves. He doesn't know I'm here, but he will in a moment. "Of course it is. I took him next door mys…" He trails off when he lifts his head and sees me. The years have been more than kind to him. If he has aged, it is very little. He still looks like the boy who baked bread and decorated cakes for his father. He was once a man of many words, but in a moment's notice they escape him. I don't know if it's the shock of seeing me or the shock of his son with me. He straightens he posture as we stare each other down.

"Gale Hawthorne," he says. All I can do is smile back at Peeta Mellark.


	2. The Bumpy Road Ahead

_**A/N: I am absolutely humbled by the reception I have received for this story. Although, I realized I forgot to mention that each chapter will be told in a different character's point of view. Don't worry, we'll have more of Gale's views soon enough.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

_**Chapter 2 – The Bumpy Road Ahead**_

* * *

><p><em>Oh, how could I face the faceless days<em>

_If I should lose you now_

_We're so close to reaching that famous happy ending_

_And almost believing this was not pretend_

_Let's go on dreaming for we know we are_

_So close, so close and still so far_

"_So Close" Jon McLaughlin_

* * *

><p>Gale Hawthorne. His name escapes my lips before I can stop them. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, like acid. I can feel the anger boiling inside of me for no reason; though I have no valid reason to be mad. I think it's the idea that this man – the one who spent countless hours in the restricted boundaries of the woods with my wife – has decided to suddenly reappear in our lives without so much as a letter. Ok, so Gale and I were never friends. We had no reason to keep in touch, but the pain of losing him took a toll on Katniss when we first returned home. She would never admit it, but she did miss him despite what had happened in the Capitol and to Prim.<p>

I can hear my father's voice in the back of my head telling me to give him a chance. Hear him out the ghostly voice says. After all, he and Mr. Everdeen had been on good terms once too. But the teenager in me shouts in protest. I can't fight the feeling that he is here for my wife. There are a million things I can say to him right now. A million more I want to say, but I hear my voice escaping my lips yet again, betraying my mind.

"It's good to see you," I've said.

Gale raises a brow at me. He's just as confused as I am at my words. It is not good to see him. Honestly, I could care less. We were not friends. The predicament we found ourselves in 15 years ago my never allow us to be. I clear my throat and look at the pudgy figure poking Gale's leg.

"Aden," I call, "come here son." My three-year-old come running over to me as fast as his chubby little legs will carry him. He's waving some stick around, holding it out to me proudly.

"Look, Daddy! I found a stick!" Aden shouts excitedly as he presents me with the broken tree branch.

I can't help but smile. He is always trying to please Katniss and me. "Now that is one quality stick. Why don't you bring that inside and show Momma? I'm sure she'll love it. Juliet, can you take him inside? And let your mother know he escaped Haymitch again."

My daughter nods her head silently as she takes her brother's hand and leads him inside; leaving me alone with Gale. We stare at each other in silence for what feels like an eternity. I can tell he is doing the same thing I am: sizing the other man up. I'm trying to figure out his motives while he tries to make sense of what he's come across. It's no secret Katniss never wanted to marry or have children. Yet, she _is_ married and she _has _kids. Two kids. With me. I clear my throat and stand firmly at the top steps of my porch.

"Cute kids," Gale says finally.

"Thanks. They get it from Katniss." The mention of her name makes Gale flinch ever so slightly. He had to have known we were married, but I can tell he's been in denial. Or he really didn't know. My guess would be the first option. "I don't mean to be rude, but can we cut the bullshit? We're two grown men. There's no need for either of us to lie."

"Fair enough," he sighs as he removes his military hat and runs his fingers through his dark hair. Looking at him now, I can see how much Gale has changed. His gray eyes have dark circles under them, telling me he hasn't slept very well for a while. The slight hint of gray around his ears informs me he has been stressed too. Probably from work. He left 12 to work for the military in 2. For years his face was flashed on television every time they visted District 2 to talk about weapons. He was their poster boy. He doesn't look like the young hunter coming to my father's bakery to trade squirrel for a few loaves of bread. I suddenly feel bad for him. From what I hear from Hazelle, Gale's work consumes his life. She's mentioned a woman in her son's life a few times, but I was only listening to be polite to be honest. One thing Hazelle has said that sticks out in my mind is that Gale and his wife divorced recently.

But in my eyes, he is still the boy from the Seam that loved my girl.

"I just thought I would stop by and…" I laugh inwardly and shake my head, stopping him from talking.

"Because you were in the neighborhood? Come on. I thought we were gonna cut the bullshit, Gale," I say. It came out ruder than I meant.

"I just got back, ok?" he bites back. "I thought I would come say hello." I'll give him that. It isn't the whole truth, but I'll give it to him. "So," he starts again, "you and Katniss…" I just nod. No need to rub it in. "Good. I'm glad she's happy."

"We are." I shift a bit from my artificial leg to my real one. "Um, look, today's kind of a big day. We'll have to be on our way soon so we're not late." For some reason, I don't want him to know too much about my personal life. "Maybe you could stop by some other time." Again, the words escape my mouth before I could stop them. Honestly, I don't want him to come back.

Suddenly, I remember this feeling set deep into my bones. It's jealousy. I'm jealous of this man and I have no reason to be.

"I understand," he says. Does he really? Does he understand I don't want him around my family? Does he understand I feel awful for feeling wary of him for no good reason? I doubt it. "I'll take you up on that offer though. Some other time." He gives a half-assed smile as he puts his hat back on.

_He's trying to be nice,_ I tell him. But my brain won't listen to reason. I convince myself there is cockiness behind that smirk and I want to knock it right off his face. Gale has turned and is headed down the street when I hear the front door open behind me. I relax instantly and smile as my family emerges.

"Hey," I smile at Katniss before giving her a quick kiss. "Took you long enough."

She frowns at me. "Well, if _you _hadn't sent _your_ son in to be disciplined by _me_, I would have been out sooner," Katniss retorts.

"Why is he my son when he does something bad?" Katniss just glares at me for a moment. "Ok, he's mine when he's doing something bad." I look down at the mini version of me. "Come on you little rebel. Let's take sister to school." I scoop Aden up in my arms and he bursts out in a fit of giggles. I smile at Juliet and hold her had as Katniss takes her other.

"Seriously Peeta, you can't always be the nice one," Katniss says as we make our way down the street. "They're going to walk all over you and they'll hate me."

"I don't hate you Momma," Juliet states.

"I love Momma!" Aden exclaims.

"What a coincidence, I do too!" I joke. Katniss just shakes her head and rolls her eyes at us. I hear her mumble that we're crazy too. "Hey, you're stuck with the crazies. We're the Maniac Mellarks!"

Katniss can't help but laugh now. She tries to resist a lot, but it's futile. I can't blame her though. For half our lives, there wasn't much to laugh or smile about. Death lingered in the air in District 12. Disease, famine, and tragedy claimed the lives of our people daily. It was one of the reasons she fought me for so long on having kids. Even though our lives were significantly better after the war, she was still afraid that history would repeat itself. She didn't want to risk our children being reaped and forced to participate in the Games like we had. I shared the same fears, but I had to have faith that our new government would work. I didn't want that to be the reason we didn't have kids.

"So who were you talking to?" Katniss suddenly asks.

"What?" is my response. I sound and probably look like an idiot, but she's caught me off guard. Does she know who had come to visit?

"I heard you talking to someone earlier after you sent the kids inside. Juliet said it was a Peacekeeper. Is everything ok, Peeta? Are we in trouble?"

I shake my head quickly. "No, no. We're not in trouble. It was just…someone catching up." I don't know why I didn't tell her. I want to blame it on the rising panic, but I'm not even sure why I would be panicking right now.

After the war, the Peacekeeps' duties changed. Instead of demanding order and inflicting fear, they did what their job titles said. They kept the peace. They enforced new laws, but were never forceful or threw around their authority. Juliet probably thought that Gale was a higher ranking Peacekeeper. It's not like we see them a lot. There isn't really a need for them in 12. Not much crime in our streets.

"Do we even know any Peacekeepers? What did they want?"

"We know…some." I'm doing my best to avoid getting too into this conversation. It's stupid for me to keep Gale's visit from Katniss, but I need more time. I need time to figure out what to tell her; why I turned him away; what will this mean for us. Plus, I didn't really want to talk about it in front of the kids. Just in case we argue. Great, now I'm anticipating a fight.

We're near the school now. The kindergarteners are lining up outside according to gender and last name, just as we always had. I realize that Katniss has slowed our pace. We are barely moving at this point. I look over at her and there's something in her eyes. Fear.

"Katniss, sweetheart? What's wrong?" I ask.

She's shaking her head now. "Maybe…maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe we should just take her home," she says. "She can start next year. Or not. Maybe we can homeschool her."

"Homeschool?" I say in disbelief. "When are we going to have time for that? I work and you have Aden the Sugar High King to deal with." Aden _is_ a handful. It's like he was born with sugar in his veins instead of blood. It doesn't help that I sneak him a few sugary treats now and then. Ok, I give it to him like it's water. But who can say no to him? Not me, that's for sure.

"We can make it work," Katniss says in frustration. "I don't…I'm not sure she's ready."

I sigh. I know what that translates into. "You mean _you're_ not ready." I put Aden down, keeping a firm grasp of his plump little hand. "Katniss, listen to me. It's going to be ok. She's a big girl. She's smart, witty, and very independent; just like her mommy. We did a good job, my love. She's ready."

I can see the internal struggle going on in Katniss's mind. She knows I'm right. Juliet is brighter than any kid her age, and I'm not just saying that. She reminds me of Katniss so much. She even sings like her mother. But I know Katniss is having a hard time letting go. Juliet is our baby. Our first child. And now she's a big girl going off to school. She's not even nervous. I think the fact that she doesn't seem to need us to hold her hand while she walks into that classroom makes this even harder for my wife.

All she wants to do is protect our baby girl; keep her from any and every harm that can come her way. Katniss was always like this – protective that is. She took care of her family for a long time after her father died. She practically raised Prim. When we were in the arena, she took care of and saved me. She did all she could to protect those she loved. Even Gale. Even I have to admit that she loved Gale so many years ago.

I look down at Juliet who has become impatient, trying to pull her hand from mine and Katniss's. She is ready.

"She's going to find out," Katniss whispers. "They'll tell her what happened."

I nod. She's right. They'll tell the children about the Hunger Games. They'll tell them how children, not much older than them, were forced to kill one another in order to go home to their families; only to be haunted by the faces of the ones they couldn't save or those of the ones they had taken lives from. They would tell our daughter – and eventually our son – about the role Katniss and I played in these Games. But that day isn't today. They aren't going to scare five year olds with tales of murder.

"When they do, we'll tell her what really happened," I tell Katniss. "We'll explain everything to her. I promise." I pull my wife close to me and kiss her temple as she holds onto me tightly.

I hear the sound of feet running, accompanied by the deep heave of someone that is trying to steady their breath. I turn around and figure out why. Haymitch.

"He, uh, got away," my old mentor says as steadily as he can.

"I can tell," I frown. "How long did it take you to notice?"

"I noticed right away!" he shouted, clearly offended. "Well, once I woke up."

"Seriously? You fell asleep when you were supposed to be watching our son?" Katniss asked angrily. "I knew we should have taken him to Hazelle."

"Grandpa Haymitch!" Aden shouts, holding his arms out to the older man.

"See, he wants to come to me. He loves me," Haymitch says in a matter-of-fact tone.

"He loves your geese," I point out.

"Just give him here already." Haymitch takes Aden from my arms. "Your Pop's a smart a…"

"Don't teach him that word Haymitch Abernathy or so help me God!" Katniss scolds.

"I was going to say 'alic.'" For the record, he wasn't going to say 'alic.' He's whispering something in Aden's ear as they walk away, making the blonde boy giggle again.

"Maybe we should be worried about him," I say to Katniss.

"Aden's smart like his daddy. He'll be fine," Katniss smiles.

"I was talking about Haymitch."

* * *

><p>After taking Juliet to school and sitting through thirty minutes of listening to the teacher explain what they kids will be doing their first week (I may have fallen asleep standing up…and snored. Loudly.), I headed off to the bakery for work. Katniss decided to come with me. She was still sulking about having to leave her mini me at school. I made her cheese buns to keep her distracted. When it was time to get Juliet, I could barely hear her shout a quick goodbye before she was out the door. Once she was gone, I was left alone to think about how to approach the Gale situation.<p>

I knew what I should do. What I'm supposed to do. I have to tell Katniss he had come by looking for her. Maybe I'm over thinking everything. It may not be as big a deal as I'm making it out to be. I just can't shake the feeling that there's something I should be aware of. Something I should be worried about. Paranoia isn't good for me. When I almost burn some loaves of bread, I decide that I need some time alone to think. I head upstairs to my office and just sit in the dark rubbing my temples. The last thing I need is an episode.

It's been so long since I've had one. Since the kids were born, I've only had two bad ones. They were both too young to remember it, but I do. I'll never forget them. I've been good at stopping them before they hit or leaving before they come. If anything were ever to happen to my family because of me, I would never be able to live with myself. I look up at the clock and sigh. I didn't realize how long I've been up here until I saw the clock. I head downstairs, pack up some bread for the house, and close up.

Word has spread about Gale's return like wildfire. People are staring as I pass. They whisper around me and some stop talking completely. _There's nothing to worry about_, I tell myself over and over in my head. I need to believe that more than anything. Once I get home, I'm greeted by the delicious smells of dinner and my family. Juliet is telling me all about her first day at school in excruciating detail. Aden is just making noises, trying to be a part of the conversation and louder than his sister. I do hear him say something about Haymitch getting bit by Delilah the Goose in his "special" place. Maybe that's why I saw the annoying creature mucking around my front yard, honking at me until I tossed it a piece of bread.

I hate those birds, but they keep Haymitch occupied and the kids love chasing them.

Dinner is delicious. Katniss made a rabbit stew with the rabbit she shot and skinned yesterday. The cookies I've brought home are now dessert. When Katniss is clearing the kids' plates from the table, I slip them extra treats. They giggle thinking their mom doesn't know, but I know she does. She always does, but pretends not to.

After cleaning up the kitchen, Katniss and I take the kids upstairs and get them ready for bed. I'm trying to scrub Aden clean of the dirt he's collected throughout the day as Katniss braids Juliet's hair. I can hear her humming softly which makes me smile.

"Why you smiling Daddy?" Aden asks.

"Because I love when Momma sings," I whisper back to him.

After his bath, I attempt to get Aden into his pajamas. Suddenly I'm regretting the extra treats. He's a maniac, running around the second floor of our house in his diaper screaming as I try to catch him. I slip on a small puddle of water that's dripped of his tiny body and go down hard. Katniss and Juliet come out of the room to check on me. Aden stopped running, but now he's hiding behind the banister. Katniss tells me she'll handle our sugar demon and orders me to the room. I'm not terribly hurt. Just a little bit of my pride. My artificial leg stops me from being the kind of father I had hoped I would be. I can't run like the other dads and chase after my kids. Katniss won't allow it. I also get winded quicker. I don't have full control over my left leg and it can get exhausting.

I shut the door behind me as I sit on the edge of my bed. I have to sit down to take my damn pants off or I'll fall. It can be frustrating to be me sometimes. I hate being treated like a baby. I almost slipped in the shower once and Katniss suggested we get a seat or put rails in there for my "convenience." Let's just say I wasn't too happy with that. I know she meant well, but I don't want to be treated different. But I know I am. What pisses me off more than people feeling sorry for me is feeling sorry for myself.

I'm sitting on the edge of the bed in my boxers and a plain white tee shirt staring at my fake leg – sometimes I don't see the point of calling it by a fancy name. It is what it is, fake – when I feel a pair of arms wrap around me.

"You ok?" Katniss whispers in my ear. I just nod. "He feels really bad you know."

"He shouldn't. I'm fine," I sigh.

"I told him he needs to be careful with you."

I let out another sigh. This time it's out of frustration. I wiggle out of her embrace and shake my head. "Don't."

"Don't what?" I can hear the hurt in her voice. I've done it now.

"Don't treat me like I'm some glass doll. I tripped. Shit happens."

"Peeta." Her voice is stern. I never talk to her like this. I don't even know why I am now. That's a lie. I do know why.

"Gale's back in town," I blurt out. "He came to the house earlier and I told him to leave. That's who Juliet saw when she said there was a Peacekeeper here."

I can't bring myself to look at my wife. I feel…ashamed. I kept this from her and there was no need. I don't know what's gotten into me. I feel her arms around me again, but I don't try to escape them this time. Maybe she'll strangle me. I'm surprised when I feel her lips on my neck, leaving soft butterfly kisses there.

"Did you hear what I said?" I ask.

"Mmhm," is all I get back.

"You're not mad?"

She removes her lips from my neck for a moment. "Why would I be?"

"I didn't tell you?"

She laughs in my ear. "So? Peeta, it's ok. You told me now. We'll talk about it tomorrow, ok?" I shrug. Honestly, I'm a bit confused. She's blowing this Gale thing off. There has to be a catch. Her hand travels to my left leg where my real leg ends and the artificial one begins. She strokes the area gently and lovingly. "Tonight," she says, "I want to spend the night with my husband."

I smirk, turning my head to catch her lips. I hold her face in my hands as I roll on top of her. No matter how much time passes, I'll never get tired of kissing her and holding her. She's tugging at the hem of my shirt and I break apart long enough for her to toss it aside and for me to get hers off of her. Her hands are on my chest, moving slowly over my skin when she pulls back from our kiss.

"By the way, Johanna's coming to stay with us for a while," she says.

And there's the catch.


	3. Bittersweet

_**A/N: I know it's only been two days since I last updated, but I wanted to get this chapter out before the week started. It may be a while before I actually get another chapter up since It's a big week at work for me. Hopefully this will hold everyone over. Who knows, maybe the more reviews I get the fast I'll get another update up. Yes, a shameless promo but what can I say. I love feedback.  
><strong>_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

_**Chapter 3 – Bittersweet**_

* * *

><p><em>So I won't let you close enough to hurt me<em>

_No, I won't ask you, you just desert me_

_I can't give you what you think you gave me_

_It's time to say goodbye to turning tables, to turning tables_

"_Turning Tables" Adele_

* * *

><p><em>Bum, bum. Bum, bum.<em> There's something calming about the sound of Peeta's heartbeat. I've listened to it for over fifteen years and it is the most beautiful sound I have ever come across. It reminds me that I'm not alone. I have Peeta to protect me from the monsters in my closet. They rear their ugly heads every so often, torturing me when I am at my most vulnerable – when I am asleep. I know I will never truly escape my demons, but as long as I have Peeta I won't have to face them alone. He helps to overcome them.

Fifteen years later and I am still haunted by the Games. By the losses of those I love. Those demons…they are the worst. I still scream in the middle of the night, begging futilely to a faceless being to let Finnick, Madge, Mags, and, above all, Prim to live. Flames engulf my friends and sister, burning them alive as they cry for my help. When I think I can't take anymore, when I want my life to end alongside them, I am pulled back to the earth. He is always there to pull me back, his eyes as clear and blue as heaven itself and his hair glowing like a halo around his head. He begs me to stay with him, to not go back to that dark place inside of me where I cannot be reached. I had been there once and when he had brought me back, Peeta made me swear to never go back.

I am still ashamed of the time I had given up all hope. Peeta pretends it never happened, but we both know it had. We both know I tried to take my own life and it was Peeta that saved me.

The memory comes back to me, turning my blood ice in my veins. I hold onto Peeta's naked form tighter, seeking its warmth. I wonder at times why he stays. I don't deserve a man like Peeta Mellark. He loves with his whole heart and nothing less. When we met, the only person I would allow myself to love was Prim. I sigh, not wanting to allow my mind to be clouded of thoughts of Prim right now. Not while I'm with my husband. It isn't that he doesn't like to hold me as I cry over my dead sister, but I feel guilty. I feel guilty I'm not celebrating my life with him. She would have wanted it that way.

I turn my head to press a small kiss on Peeta's bare chest and press my cheek against it again. I could listen to his heart beat while my head rises and falls with the rhythm his breathing creates forever. I look up at his face and smile. There is a sense of tranquility about him as he sleeps. In his sleep, he cannot be harmed. He is still the boy burning bread and getting a beating so that I will not go hungry. He is kind and gentle; loving and passionate.

I can't help but smirk. There was nothing kind and gentle about what he did last night. Behind the closed doors of our bedroom and between the sheets, Peeta can be an animal. There's no pleasant way to put it. He is a passionate lover, taking his time and bringing me to an ecstasy I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams. But there are times when sweet and gentle just won't do. He can be very dominant when he wants to be. He demands authority, moving wildly and rough. I don't complain. I love this side of Peeta too. Last night, he was the latter. Fast, furious, and completely in control. It was as if he were claiming me as his. Part of me knows he was, even if he didn't realize it. He feels threatened and I know why.

Gale.

I feel uncomfortable thinking about him while I'm lying naked beside my husband, but I can't stop. It's not a sexual thought, just a quandary. What was he doing back in District 12? From what Hazelle says, he's happy in 2. He left District 12 and all who lived in it behind. He didn't think twice about leaving, but it took him fifteen years to come back. We weren't on the best of terms when he moved, but he had gone before I even knew leaving was an option for him. There was a lingering sense of unfinished business where Gale was concerned. Prim would want me to forgive him. I'm just not sure I can fully do that. A shiver runs down my spine thinking about the whole situation and Peeta's solid arms wrap around my frame.

"Cold?" he asks sleepily.

"Mmhm," I manage to get out as I nod my head. I can't trust my mouth to get words out without sobbing. I feel like I've been hit with a ton of bricks.

He knows something is wrong. He rubs my arms and kisses the top of my head. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," I say, hearing the strain in my voice. I hate being too emotional. I can't help it now. Thinking of Prim, what she would want me to do, and what I cannot…it's too much.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Gale sooner."

He took a deep breath to keep himself calm. Despite the interaction we've had with the Hawthornes over the years, Gale was hardly ever brought up. Peeta didn't bring him up for my benefit, as well as his own, and I didn't for Peeta's sake and because, honestly, it hurt. But the days of blissfully acting as if he had never been part of our lives was over. We couldn't avoid talking about him. Not while he was in town.

"It's fine," I say, but we both know it's not. "I'm sorry I sprung Johanna on you like that."

Peeta just laughs. It's not that he doesn't like Johanna. In fact, he adores her. The kids love her and she's one of my best friends. She just isn't someone you would necessarily want to be around for too long. She's like strong liquor. She's just easier to take in small doses. When I had talked to her yesterday while Peeta was at work, she admitted she wasn't sure how long her stay would be.

"She's lonely isn't she?" Peeta asks as he starts to draw small patterns on my skin with his fingers.

"She's never going to admit it." I smile and laugh, remembering something my friend had said. "She said she might try to settle down."

"Maybe she and Gale will hit it off."

I stop laughing instantly. The idea never crossed my mind. They were both single and both attractive. It wouldn't be such an absurd thought to think they may hit it off if they tried. Only it was. It was Johanna. And Gale. Thinking of my best friend and former best friend hitting it off leaves another uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. This feeling doesn't belong. I shouldn't feel it, but I do. I'm actually jealous of a ridiculous thought.

It doesn't go unnoticed either. Peeta lets out a deep sigh and his hand stops its movements. "I should get ready for work," he says. He's trying to hide the disappointment in his voice, but I know him too well. He slips out from our bed and I try to catch his arm to stop him, but he's too quick. I know better than to push too hard. I've wounded him and his ego.

"Peeta," I sigh. He turns to face me. I wish he hadn't now. I can see every emotion in his beautiful blue eyes and they're all there because of me. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he grumbles. He turns and continues his journey to our bathroom.

"Peeta!" I call again.

He sighs and looks at me again. "What is it Katniss? If I don't get ready now, I'll be late to work."

I grin at him. "Walk slower."

* * *

><p>I think it goes without saying that the bakery opened three hours later than usual. I don't always use sex to avoid fighting or talking about uncomfortable subjects with Peeta, but it'd be a lie to say it wasn't one of my favorite scapegoats. Before we got married, I used it a lot to mask the pain. I used to think Peeta didn't mind. Sex was sex and he <em>is<em> a man. But Peeta was no ordinary man. I would catch him some days at the bakery with a hollow look in his eyes. He always thought sex was a declaration of one's love for another, he had told me once. He never thought people used it because they felt nothing or wanted to avoid the heavy in life. Imagine how I felt for corrupting the world's sweetest, kindest, most loving man.

Part of me hoped to be able to avoid Gale. I'm not sure what I would say to him when I we were face to face. Would I be angry? Happy? Excited? Nervous? Indifferent? The real question was would I feel guilty? Guilty for not having made the effort to talk to him in fifteen years, but keeping close to his family. Guilty for blaming him for Prim's death, though now I don't. Guilty for being around him while married to Peeta. Peeta wouldn't mind. He's never told me who I could and could not be friends with, but this was Gale. Gale who was my best friend for seven years. Gale who I had trusted more than anyone for eight years. Gale, who I had loved when I loved Peeta when I was a stupid, stupid girl.

"Katniss!" I hear someone call my name.

I turn and smile at the caller. "Hey Delly," I smile. She's Peeta's oldest friend. They were both from the wealthier part of the District. Her mother was a healer and her father owned the grocery market. Delly now helps with the daycare. I've thought about sending Aden there, but he can be a handful. "Off today?"

"I sure am. One of the kids got sick yesterday. All over the play room." I cringed at the thought. "Yea, my thoughts exactly. Anyway, they don't want kids in the room until it's completely cleaned. Spreading germs and whatnot. I was headed to Sae's for lunch. You wanna join me?"

"I'd love to."

We headed down toward the Hob for lunch, something those from the Market section would have frowned on fifteen years ago. Everyone in 12 have been friendly for as long as anyone could remember, but there were still the fine lines of distinction some people wanted to keep. It just wasn't ok for someone from the wealthier part of District 12 to be seen eating at the Hob. The backdoor deals that went on there weren't becoming for people of their "stature."

"So," Delly started as we headed toward Greasy Sae's, "I hear we have some…visitors in town."

I knew what she was talking about. It's all anyone was talking about these days. "So I've heard," I reply.

"Have you talked to him?"

I shake my head. "I haven't seen him. I guess we keep missing each other."

"I'm sure you guys do." There's something about her tone that makes me uncomfortable. Some women would be jealous that their husband's best friend was a woman, but not many of Peeta's friends had made it out of 12 the day of the bombing. She was kind of all he had left from his old life. "How do you feel about seeing him?"

The question catches me off guard. No one has thought to ask me what I might feel. Of course, I've had my internal struggles but I can dwell in my fears on my own in my head. I look up at Delly and for the quickest moment, I see someone else. Someone I miss dearly that always asked what I was thinking and feeling when we were together. I haven't seen her face in fifteen years; well, not unless you count my nightmares. I saw Madge. Poor, sweet, innocent Madge. Other than Gale, she was probably my only friend in District 12. I could feel the tears threatening to pour and a tightening grip in my throat.

"I don't know Delly," I reply honestly. "It's been so long, I doubt I'd know what to say to him if we did see each other. Maybe I'll get lucky and won't see him. Maybe he'll leave again before I get the chance to talk to him. It does seem to be what he does." Suddenly I'm angry. I can't stop thinking of Madge and Gale. How could he not save her? How could he leave her to die? She was my friend. No. _Our_ friend and he let her die. "Should I even care? I mean, Gale didn't when he walked out of his place without a second thought. Maybe it's best if he had just stayed away."

I guess I wasn't paying attention to where I was going because I suddenly had walked right into a very solid something. That something was definitely out of place. The people in 12 are very modest in their attire. We never wear anything fancy or Capitol made unless there's a big event. There was never need. The person I had walked right into definitely was an outsider. Their crisp, clean, pressed uniform was pristine. I recognized them from the rebellion. They were made for high ranking government officials. What would they be doing here in the Hob? In District 12 at all?

I knew then who it was before they even turned around. I'd knocked the hat right off his head and he was picking it up. I wanted to turn and run, but I was frozen in shock. I'd been avoiding seeing and talking to/about him, but I couldn't anymore. Not with him standing there. He turned to face me and his gray eyes bore into mine. He looked just as I remembered him. Older, but the same if that makes any sense.

"Gale," I breathe out.

He smiles that smile and I'm sixteen again, deep in the woods with him as we prepare to hunt for dinner. "Hey Catnip," he smirks.

We stare at each other for a moment, no one moving or making a sound. "Maybe I should go," Delly says, making a move to leave.

I grab her wrist before she can. I look at her, silently pleading with her not to leave me alone with him. "Lunch," I say to no one in particular. "We're supposed to get lunch remember?" She gets the hint and stands by my side again. I don't know why I can't be alone with Gale. It just doesn't feel…right.

"I can let you two go if you have plans," Gale says.

When I say "We do," I can hear Delly say, "Join us," at the same time. Ok, so maybe we _aren't_ on the same page.

I sigh and give in. "We're heading to Sae's," I say. "Do you want to…" I let out a sigh before finishing. "Would you like to join us?"

"I'd love to," he smiled. For some reason, I didn't like the smile. It was like he was being smug about something. Maybe it was just in my head. Maybe I was seeing it because I was mad at him for not saving Madge. For not saving Prim.

When we got to Sae's, Delly "suddenly" remembered that she was supposed to meet with the cleaning crew about her soiled classroom. I glared at her. If looks could kill, she'd be dead several times over. I mouthed 'traitor' at her as she waved goodbye with a smile on her face. Somehow, I think she knew he'd be here and we'd bump into each other. I'll have to have a word with Peeta about his friend.

"So," Gale said as he took off his shirt and hat, setting it on a stool before taking his own. I raised a brow at him. "The uniform makes Sae's granddaughter uncomfortable."

"Nice of you to remember," Sae grunts from her seat. "I should check on that stew."

I watch in disbelief as Greasy Sae disappears into the kitchen. What has gotten into everyone? Why are they leaving me with Gale? I knew the answer. They wanted us to talk so they could talk later. Gossip spreads quicker than a plague here.

"So," Gale says again.

"Get it out Gale. What is it that you want?" I ask in a harsher tone than I mean.

"It's nice to see that married couples share the same courtesy," he huffs. "Did he even tell you I came by yesterday?"

I feel the anger boiling in me now. It's like tea on the stove. The heat builds up before the steam comes out, screaming that it's had enough in its confinements. "Of course he told me," I say bitterly. "If you just wanted to speak ill of my _husband_, save your breath. I don't have to stand for this." I'm ready to storm off and be done with Gale when he grabs my arm.

"Katniss, wait," he sighs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to talk down about…Peeta." I can tell he's having a hard time calling Peeta what he truly is: my husband. "I went by the bakery early this morning for the first pick on bread and it wasn't open, so I thought…"

"Thought what? He wasn't going to leave my side so I couldn't see you?"

"No. I just thought…"

"You know, he doesn't control me Gale. He's not like _other_ men. He's my husband, not my owner."

"Damn it Katniss I never said he was!" He let go of my wrist and slammed his fist against the counter, making me jump a little. "I was trying to say I thought you two were taking your kid to school again. I was going to call him later to see if it was ok if I came by. He invited me to come back yesterday when I didn't see you."

Now I feel foolish. I was so sure that Gale was going to do nothing but bad mouth Peeta and here he was trying to be thoughtful. At least I think he is. "I'm sorry," I squeak out. I slip back into my seat and stare at the bowl in front of me.

"It's ok." I didn't expect him not to forgive me. I'm sure he understands how complicated this all is. Then again, I'm not completely sure why I'm being so hostile toward him. "Your kids are cute though."

I smile. "Thanks. They get it from Peeta." He laughs at my comment. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just something I heard yesterday." I roll my eyes and turn back to my stew. "How old are they?"

"Juliet's five and Aden just turned three." Gale's just nodding. "Juliet started school yesterday," I add. "She was so excited. She kept trying to get away from us, like we'd embarrass her in front of everyone. To be fair, Peeta did."

"Really? How?"

"He fell asleep during the introduction and started to snore. It was so loud and everyone was staring. I had to poke him ten times before he woke up. He did this snort thing and started shouting out pastries and bread names." We were both laughing now. "My poor baby was so embarrassed. She was pushing him out of the classroom like she didn't want people to know he was her dad."

"Oh man, that had to be hilarious. What about the little one? The one with the stick? He's a dead ringer for Peeta. Except for his eyes."

I nod, smiling fondly as I thought of my son. "Aden," I remind him. "He's a character that one. He wants to be like his dad so much, but I hate to admit he's more like me. A true rebel. We've been trying to potty train him. It's going fairly well. Just a few night time accidents."

The more I talk about my kids, the more comfortable around Gale feel. Soon we're laughing as we tell stories about mishaps we've run into over the years. We reminisce about our lives before the Rebellion. Before Prim was reaped. We steer clear of stories about her. And Peeta. It's too painful for me to talk to Gale about my sister and it's too painful for him to even say Peeta's name.

"Your mom must be so happy you're home," I say. We've been at Sae's for an hour an hour and a half now. Our bowls have been empty for more than an hour, but we haven't left. I feel like we'd stepped into the past. Gale makes a face and doesn't look up at me. "She does know you're here right?"

"Not…exactly," he confesses.

"I…how could you not tell her that you're here? The kids…"

"You know why I haven't been home." His words are harsh, but the bitterness isn't meant for me.

"Gale, he was a kid when you left. He's a grown man now. He'll understand."

"Yea, like you did?" His words cut through me like a knife. Yes, I was angry when I first saw Gale. But now, the tension was gone. At least, I thought it was. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean…"

"It's ok," I interrupt, not wanting him to know how much his bitterness hurt. "I should get going. Juliet's almost done and I need to get Aden from Haymitch. Peeta will be waiting for us."

I can see it in Gale's eyes and body that he wants to stop me and say something, but he doesn't. He leaves out a heavy sigh and nods as he hunches his shoulders. "Don't want to keep him waiting."

I hold my head up high and shake my head. "No. No I don't." I place some coins on the counter for Sae – who, by the way, is trying not to be seen from behind the door as if she wasn't hanging on every word we said over the last hour and a half. "Goodbye Gale. I hope you enjoy your _visit._" I emphases the last word for dramatic effect. He won't stay. I know he won't. We all do. He just grunts a goodbye. I turn to head back into town, taking one last look at Gale before he is out of eye shot. I was right after all.

Maybe he should have stayed away.


	4. Regret

_**A/N: I wanted to get this out before the weekend because I'll be busy as hell the next few days. The response from the last chapter was, again, humbling. Though I expected more reviews. The more I get, the quicker the update. Just sayin lol  
><strong>_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

_**Chapter 4 – Regret**_

* * *

><p><em>The thought of all the stupid things I said<em>

_Oh no, what's this?_

_A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle_

_So I turned to run_

_The thought of all the stupid things I've done_

_I never meant to cause you trouble_

_And I never meant to do you wrong_

_And I, well if I ever caused you trouble_

_Oh no, I never meant to do you harm_

"_Trouble" Coldplay_

* * *

><p>I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. I've acted rashly and let the heat of the moment get the best of me. It's gotten me into trouble. Some more than others. I'll never forget one mistake I made was to assume things wouldn't change after Katniss and Peeta came home after winning the Games sixteen years ago. To think that nothing would come of their act in the arena. I can still feel the burning sting on my back, reliving each painful whip every now and then. They've left their scars, physically and mentally. I also made the mistake of thinking I stood a chance against Peeta. Part of me knew that she would choose him. I just tried to cling to her as much as I could just in case there was a chance she would choose otherwise. But the more I tried to hold on to her, the more I pushed her away. My own ideas on how to win the war clouded my mind from the bigger picture.<p>

I stayed at Sae's for another half hour, staring into the depths of an empty bowl. Funny, it's kind of how I felt. Empty and hollow. Like all the good things in me had been picked clean and I only have myself to blame. It took years for me to convince myself that my bomb wasn't the one that killed Prim. Whether or not it truly was my design, I couldn't have known that's what they were going to use it for. Part of me still takes blame for Prim's death, but I never would have hurt her intentionally. I thought that had counted for something.

It's part of the reason I never returned to District 12. I knew they were bringing Katniss back here until they figured out what to do with her. I also knew Peeta would fight like hell to come back to be with her. And he did. I can still remember the temper tantrum he had when they told him it may be best if he stayed away from District 12. Katniss wouldn't have wanted to see me. Prim's death was still too fresh and seeing me would have only done more harm. Prim herself was a reason I couldn't go home. I'd see her innocent face everywhere, haunting me at every turn. So I told my family they were free to go home, but I would be on my way to District 2 to work for the military.

That's when Rory snapped. He was furious that after everything that had happened, I was leaving. I was leaving 12. I was leaving them. He was right on some account. I knew my mother would want to go back to the only home she had ever known. My father's final resting place was there and she couldn't leave him. But I couldn't go back. I had thought they had understood why. As far as my brother was concerned, I was wrong.

I wasn't angry at Katniss when she had suggested I go home and see my family, or at least call to let them know I'm here. To be honest, I agreed with her. I was just afraid of what I would be going home to. I was afraid of how they'll receive me. Would they hate me? Not want to see me? Turn me away? No. Not my mother. My mother would never do any of those things. My mother would, will, and has always accepted me with open arms. Fifteen years and only she and Posy have come to District 2 to see me on a frequent basis. I won't lie. It hurt. She would make excuses for Vick; he had school or he was busy looking for a job. But there was never an excuse for Rory. She would avoid talking about him. She would never tell me he didn't want anything to do with me. I looked up from my empty bowl to see good ol' Greasy Sae staring at me.

"Well?" she asked gruffly. "What are you waiting for boy? Your momma's been waiting for you to come home for fifteen damn years. Don't keep her waiting any longer."

I put some money on the counter for my food, leaving a few extra coins for letting me stick around while I sulked. I grabbed my hat and shirt, not bothering to put them on as I headed toward the Seam. Yesterday, I did my best to avoid going to the section of the District where I had grown up. District 12 actually had a small hotel where visitors passing through would come to stay, hoping to see the Mockingjay and her family. Despite how homey the tiny room felt, it was nothing like home. It was cold and lonely. I headed down the road, smiling as children ran past me giggling and chasing after one another. I wish my childhood had been so care-free. Instead, I feared my 12th birthday and every year after that until I was considered a man, ineligible to be entered into the Games.

As I neared my mother's home – which was rebuilt in the same spot my childhood home once stood – I actually begin to feel nervous. I consider turning around and heading back to that dingy little hotel room I'll be calling home through the duration of my stay, but I can't. I'm too close to run away again. I've missed my brothers, mother, and sister. It's been four years since I've seen my mom and Posy and 7 since I last saw Vick. My youngest brother had stopped by in 2 to see me on his way to a study program through all the districts. He stayed a few days, and then he was gone. He never spoke of Rory during his stay. He actually tried to avoid talking about home. He was never one to get in the middle of things. He liked to stay neutral and the best way to do that was not to talk about the problems our family had.

I climbed the steps to my family's front door and rapped on the soft wood lightly. I wonder now if they heard I was back. I'm positive they have. My sudden return is all anyone has been talking about. Even if they weren't told directly, they had to have heard the rumors. Time froze when the door opened. My heart actually ached when I saw my mother. She looks just as she always has: tired, but keeping her brave face on. She never wanted us to know she was sad, tired, or worried about how she would get the next meal on the table. There are streaks as gray as her eyes in her hair. I can see she is older now and it pains me to know that I haven't been home to take care of her like a good son should be.

The moment her eyes meet mine, they begin to tear. Her bottom lip quivers and she quickly brings her hand over her mouth as if trying to hide it from me. Her hands move to my face, holding it as to make sure I'm really standing in front of her. "Gale?" she manages to get out in a trembling voice. "Gale, is it really you?"

I smile and nod my head. "Yea, Mom," I say softly, "it's me."

In an instant, I am in her arms. I close my eyes as I wrap my arms around her, holding her as she cries into my shirt. I'm not ashamed to say I may be on the verge of my own tears. I've missed my family. I've missed my home. For a moment, I can't remember why I had left in the first place. After what seems like hours, my mother pulls back, wiping her tear stained face with a handkerchief she retrieves from her apron pocket.

"I'm sorry," she's half laughing, half crying. "Look at me, crying like a child. I've ruined your shirt."

"No Ma," I smile, "it's ok. Don't worry about the shirt. It's not important."

She laughs and nods her head. She lets out a sigh and cups my face again. "My baby." Her smile grows as she pulls my face down and places a soft kiss on my forehead. She releases my face and motions me to come into the house. "Come in, come in. We have so much to talk about!"

I follow my mom into the new home. I've never seen her this happy before. Not since Dad died at least. It occurs to me that I've never been in this house before. I remember our old house. It was small and, literally, falling apart. I had to do the repairs myself and it was hard to find the right materials to even begin to fix the problems. This home was nothing like it. It was sturdy. There were no holes in the ceiling or loose floor boards. The doors actually had knobs and there were more than two rooms. The windows could actually be looked through. There was no thick layer of grime to obscure the outside world from my family's view. Although, there's probably more to look forward to out there now.

"I heard you were back," my mom says.

"Yea," I say somewhat uncomfortably. "I thought about coming by yesterday, but…"

My mom puts up her hand and shakes her head. "It's alright, Gale. I'm just glad you're here now." She stands at the counter in the kitchen, slicing some bread. "Have you seen Katniss?" Leave it to my mother to ask like nothing had happened; like I wasn't gone for fifteen years. "I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."

"I actually just saw her," I say, playing with the rim of my hat. "It didn't go to well."

She looks up at me with sad eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

"It's ok," I sigh. "I'll just…" I trail off when the back door opens and two people walk in. It takes me a minute to register that these adults are my baby brother and sister. Posy is a younger version of our mom. Vick shares the same features. He is tall and slim with a bit of muscle. He's allowed his facial hair to grow, but keeps it maintained. He's wearing a tie and white coat, making me wonder exactly what he does now. He's stiff as he stares in my direction. "Hey guys."

My voice sounds formal, like I was just out hunting for the morning instead of thousands of miles away for the last fifteen years. For longer than either of them have been alive. It doesn't seem to bother Posy. She lets out an ear piercing scream and runs to me, throwing her arms around my neck. I hug my little sister as her mouth spouts a million words a second in my ear. I laugh and nod my head like I know what she's saying, because honestly, I can't keep up. My eyes are trained on Vick who seems to be having a bit of an internal battle about seeing me.

"I _knew_ you were back! I told you, Vick! Didn't I tell you he was back, Vick?" Posy asks, pointing a finger at our brother.

"You did," Vick's gentle voice replies. He's silent again. He never was a man for many words.

"It's good to see you," I say to him. "You've grown up." He just nods. He looks uncomfortable. I can tell he isn't sure where his loyalties should lie. I've been gone for so long, but I made sure we didn't starve to death for a long time too. Then again, Rory has been there for him the decade and a half.

"I, uh, should go," Vick stutters. "Work."

I can see my mom nodding her head as she says, "It's alright, sweetie. We understand." Vick's hand is on the door knob when my mother speaks again. "You're coming back tonight right? With Val?" Vick nods. Val? Who is Val? "Ok. We'll see you tonight. Maybe I can get your brother to join us." My mom looks over at me and smiles.

"Uh, sure," I say. "I'll see you later, Vick."

Just then, I hear the thundering sound of footsteps running down the stairs. We all stop and look in the direction of the sound. A face I haven't seen in 15 years stands at the bottom of the stairs. Rory. He looks nothing like Posy or Vick. Although he and I both take after our father, he doesn't look much like me either. His shoulders are wide and he looks very solid. His arms are somewhat muscular as if he lifts heavy things all the time. He looks up for the first time and sees me. The temperature in the room immediately drops and the tension builds quickly.

"I'm just gonna…" Vick stutters as he points to the door. He's gone before anyone can stop him.

"Rory," my mom smiles as she crosses the room to him. She places her petite hand on his tense shoulder as she speaks in a calming voice. "Look who's here."

"I can see," he nearly spats. His voice is gruff and deeper than I expected. Then again, I'm expecting the voice of a twelve year old. "What do you want?" His words come out in a growl.

"Rory, please," my mom pleads.

"No. I want to know what the hell this asshole is doing here."

"Hey," I say, taking a step toward my brother. I don't care how he talks to me, but he better have respect for our mother. "Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" There's a look in his eyes, wild and threatening. He's ready to fight. "You've been gone for fifteen years and you think you can just come in here and act like you have the right to treat people like their kids?"

"Rory," my mother begs. I can hear it in her voice that she's fighting back tears. "Please, Rory. Don't."

"Don't what, Ma? He left us! He walked out on us and he waltzes back in thinking everything's all sunshine and lollipops? No. He has no right!"

I can feel Posy trying to hide behind me, but also trying to watch what was happening. My mom's hands are on Rory's face now, holding it like she had mine not too long ago. Only now, she's not trying to commit her son's face to memory. She isn't trying to assure herself that who she was looking at was really there. She was trying to get Rory to look at her so she can calm him. She was whispering his name, trying to get his attention, but his eyes were glued on me.

"Rory," she's saying, "Rory, I know. Just…please. He just got home."

"So he abandons us, comes back, and we're supposed to act like it's ok?" Rory's shouting now. His face is turning red with anger as he clenches one of his fists.

"Hey!" I intervene. "I never abandoned you guys. I took a job somewhere else. I asked you guys to come with me!"

"You knew we wouldn't!" He's laughing at me now as if I had told a sick joke. "You know Mom would want to come back. But that didn't stop you from leaving. You packed up your shit and you left. You _left_, Gale! You walked out on us and you haven't looked back!"

"That's not true! I've been asking you to come…"

"Visit? You've asked us to drop everything and visit? That's what you were going to say right?" I take a deep breath and stand straight. I'm starting to think that I should let him get out all his anger before trying to talk reason into him. "We have lives too hot shot. Fifteen years, Gale. _Fifteen _fucking years! You could have come home too! You think that sending a pay check constitutes as something? You wanna know what it means to me? It means that you're just buying your responsibility to this family! You think a God damn pay check will satisfy what you're not here to do. You don't know a God damn thing about any of us and you expect us to welcome you with arms wide open. No. It doesn't work that way. We needed you! We needed you, Gale, and you weren't here!" I can hear the tremble in his voice. What's louder than that is the sound of his heart breaking. He shakes his head and tries to shake Mom's hand off his shoulder. "I don't have time for this. I'm going to be late for work."

For the first time, I notice the white apron in my brother's hand. His attire is significantly different than Vick's. He heads for the door, purposely bumping his broad shoulder into mine as he passes me for the front door. Our mother pleads with him to come back, just for a moment, so we could talk. She doesn't want things to be left like this. I notice now that Posy no longer seems excited to see me. In fact, she's actually trying to put distance between us. She isn't afraid of me or Rory, but I can tell Rory's words have made sense to her. I have been gone for a long time. I wasn't there for the good or bad. I wasn't there at all. I don't know my siblings. Not even a little. I turn and head out the door, hot on my brother's tail.

"Gale?" my mother says, shocked, as I pass her on the porch. "Gale, wait! Just let him be!" she yells after me. I can't though. I have to talk to him.

Rory is moving quickly through the streets. People are actually moving out of his way as he nears them. "Rory!" I call to him.

He only glances at me over his shoulder to glare at me. "Leave me alone," he shouts.

"Come on. Talk to me."

"I don't want to. Just leave me the fuck alone."

"I can't do that." We're passing through the Seam and the Hob now. I'm wondering where exactly we are headed. "I'm sorry, ok?"

He laughs. "No you're not. You were glad to be rid of this place. If you were, you would have come back at least once in the last fifteen years."

"It's not…look, it's complicated." People are staring now. "Rory, can we just stop and talk in private?"

"Why? Nothing in 12 has ever been a secret. We all know each other's business. You must have forgotten while you live the high life in 2."

"I don't live the high life. Rory, would you just stop?"

Finally, he listens. He stops and turns abruptly and I run right into him. I stagger back, half in surprise and half because I have to, to catch my footing.

"You left, Gale. You wanted nothing to do with District 12 or anyone in here. Why don't you do us all a favor and go back to 2 already? Everyone knows you won't stay. Just leave. No one wants you here."

I'm speechless. I hadn't realized to what extent of the damage I had done to the people I care about. Katniss, Rory, Vick, Posy, and even my mother…I've done them all harm. Rory lets out a huff and shakes his head. He turns again and continues his journey to his job. Only, he doesn't go too far. I realize now that we are in the Market section. A couple of yards away, Rory shouts a happy greeting to his employer. I feel my heart drop into the pit of my stomach as I watch him slap hands with the blonde haired blue eyed man. He laughs and heads into the Mellark Bakery.


	5. Moonlight Moments

_**A/N: So some of you are probably wondering why you have another update for this chapter in your inboxes. Well, it's simple. I forgot my major editing last night lol. It's pretty much the same but a few adjustments. I'm not a very good lemon writer unless I'm doing it in RP – pardon the pun. Going solo is a lot harder than I thought. Ok, someone stop me now. Once again, I appreciate all the support and reviews I've gotten for the story as a whole And, again, I dedicate this chapter to my girl, who inspires me every day.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

_**Chapter 5 – Moonlight Moments**_

* * *

><p>'<em>Cause you are not alone<em>

_I am there with you_

_And we'll get lost together_

'_Til the light comes pouring through_

'_Cause when you feel like you're done_

_And the darkness has won_

_Babe, you're not lost_

_When the world's crashing down_

_And you cannot bare the cross_

_I said, baby, you're not lost_

"_Lost" Michael Buble_

* * *

><p>I tried not to notice Gale standing thirty feet from the bakery. I had heard yelling outside and went to see what the commotion was and saw him. Rory had looked furious when he turned away from his brother, but smiled happily when he spoke to me. This is where my dilemma lies. I never wanted to be Gale's replacement in Rory's life. I was his boss, but I was also his friend. I was there for the young man when Gale wasn't. I had unconsciously filled a void in his life that his brother left behind. I won't lie, it was nice to be needed like that. I was the youngest of three and I was always going to my brothers for help. Now they were gone and Rory came to me like I had my brothers. The guilt of enjoying that kind of attention ate away at me at times.<p>

Once we were in the bakery, I set Rory to work. We were swamped with orders and I had to call him in for the help. It didn't help that I allowed my physical desires cloud my better judgment this morning. For a long time, Katniss has used her body to distract me as well as her. It's not that I didn't enjoy it, because I do. I've enjoyed every moment with her I've ever had since I was five years old. As long as she was happy, I was happy. I just didn't know that sex was a means of escape. My father had planted the idea that sex was an act of love and should only be engaged in if I was truly in love. My first time – as well as Katniss's – was indeed an act of love. There were just times after that the love I felt when I was with her wasn't mirrored and hurt me a little. Once Katniss found out, she didn't sleep with me for two weeks. It wasn't the best two weeks of my life.

Rory and I worked quickly to catch up with our orders. It was weird how much I trusted him in the kitchen. We were completely in sync as we moved about our work place; never getting in the other person's way or making it the other wait for something. Before I knew it, we were nearly caught up. I looked up at the clock and frowned. Katniss was supposed to be here hours ago with the kids for a family lunch date. I started to get worried. She would have called if she was going to be late. I could feel the panic rising in me. My mind started racing, thinking of a million things that could have happened. My hand was on the receiver of the phone when the bells above the door chimed and Katniss walked in.

"Katniss," I called, a bit shocked to see her walk in like she was early, "what happened to you? It's nearly four. You were supposed to be here at noon."

She smiles and rises on her tippy toes to kiss me. "Sorry, I was going to call, but I was…busy."

"Busy doing what?" I noticed then that she was alone. I peeked out the door to see if the kids were just playing outside again, but they were nowhere to be seen. "Where are the kids?"

She smirked at me that made me wonder what the hell was going on. "That's kinda why I was late."

"Oh, sweetheart, you didn't leave them in the woods did you? I thought we were joking when we said we would do that. They were starting to grow on me."

Rory had walked out of the kitchen when I had started to speak and he was looking and us like we were insane. "You guys are nuts," he said as he rolled his eyes and filled the pastry case.

"Seriously, where are they?" I asked, turning my attention back to Katniss.

"I had to convince Haymitch to take them. It took our good wine and some of the hard stuff you try to hide from me, but he took them."

"You gave away my rum? Why is the rum always the first to go?"

"You don't need it. You know I don't like you drinking that stuff," she said seriously.

I should explain this one. Remember how I talked about how I thought sex was an expression of love and Katniss wanted my body for other purposes? Well, around the first anniversary of the bombing of District 12 that took the lives of our friends and my entire family, Katniss took it hard. We had gone to the memorial site to pay our respects to my family and to Madge. Poor Madge had lost her life because she wouldn't leave her mother who was bed ridden. Thom told me that when they went through the rubble that was once the Undersee residence, they found the Mayor, his wife, and Madge in bed, holding each other. They had died in each other's arms. It was both a comforting and painful thought. That night, Katniss came to my door; which was great because I needed her that night. Just not in the way she needed me. I needed her to just be there with me. As stupid as it sounds, I needed her to hold my hand and tell me it would be ok and my family and Madge were all in a better place. But she didn't. She kissed me in a way that made her intentions quite clear.

Something in me snapped. I didn't have an episode, but I sure as hell had a tantrum. I yelled at her, telling her that she was being selfish. I wasn't her personal sex toy she could come for whenever she wasn't happy. I told her she needed to stop trying to hide and face the fact that life sucked. Our lives sucked. The Capitol had taken everything from us and she was trying to take the last bit of innocence from me. I told her that I wasn't going to – pardon my language – fuck her because she was being too much of a coward to face her fears. That was the first time she slapped me. I left before she did. I bought the darkest bottle of liquor I could find. I didn't even wait to get home to crack the first bottle open. I don't even remember making it back to my house. Apparently, someone found me curled up on the floor, coddling the bottle in the middle of a snow storm. They called Katniss and she somehow got me home. The next morning, I woke up with a fever and the worst hangover in the history of mankind. She made me promise never to do that again and left.

Rum became my scapegoat. I hid a bottle of the stuff in the house for those nights when the world seemed to rest on my shoulders. I would only have a glass or two, but even that was too much for Katniss's liking. She didn't stop me, but she didn't approve.

"Sorry," I mumbled feeling quite foolish that I was making a joke about my liquor being gone.

"It's ok," she said softly, suddenly finding the collar of my shirt very interesting.

"Are you going to tell me why you left our kids with Father Goose?"

She laughed and wrapped her arms around me. "Hey Rory?" she called. "Do you mind handling things for the rest of the day?"

"What?" I asked in shock. "Katniss, we have enough orders to last us the week. I can't leave for the day. In fact, I think I'll have to work later tonight."

"I got it," Rory interjected, giving Katniss a wink.

I looked between the both of them. There was something going on behind my back here. "What are you two up to?"

Katniss just rolled her eyes and grabbed my wrist as she pulled me toward the door. "Thanks Rory!" she called behind her as she dragged me out of my business.

"But Katniss…" I tried to protest.

"No arguing with me," she interrupted. "Let's just go!"

She was so excited I couldn't help but smile. My wife isn't exactly the "excited" type. She was always weary and suspicious of people and things she did not know or trust. And this was rightfully so. It was hard to see who we could really trust and who was trying to kill us when we weren't looking. There were times when Katniss was filled with an uncontainable energy. I think because it was a rare thing to see her so excited, it was infectious. It's how I felt now. The energy and eagerness in her made me eager and energized. Soon, I was running (the best I could at least) with her.

For a moment, I think we are headed for Greasy Sae's. We are in the Hob, weaving through the thick crowds of people trading goods with their neighbors and playful children. We're slowed when a group of Juliet's classmates run up to us asking if I have any candy or cookies. Thankfully, I always carry a stash of hardened sugar cubes on me. A treat inspired by a fallen friend. The kids love it; especially mine and Finn, Finnick and Annie's son. The short cubby children happily take the treats and run off.

When Katniss and I are on the move again, she surprises me as we cut through the Seam and into the woods – her sanctuary. I've been out here a handful of times. Each time holding a very special memory. I moved quicker now that I know where our destination will be. Many things were destroyed in the bombing of District 12, but not the lake. Somehow, this beautiful, peaceful place went untouched. The green near the lake was a luscious green, sprinkled with yellow, blue, purple, and white flowers. The lake itself was a clear blue, a perfect reflection of the sky on a clear day. It looked like a garden built in heaven, sent by God to remind us that there would always be hope to those who weren't afraid to find it.

There used to be a small concrete house, but again, the bombing had turned it to rubble. I spent two days straight out here building a cabin for Katniss for our first anniversary. If she every invited me into the woods, this is where she would take me. I made too much noise when she hunted, scaring the game and after her attempt, I wasn't keen on leaving her alone. She was insulted at the idea I thought she might do herself in, but she also understood my concerns. She didn't like to leave me on my own either. So the cabin seemed to be useful. Every so often, Hazelle would take the kids and Katniss and I would spend a weekend alone here. It so happened to be where we conceived Aden.

Katniss unlocked the door and pushed it open, pulling me in quickly. I was surprised to see what was on the other side. The room was filled with several different kinds of flowers, all of which were orange. It was like our own personal sunset. The smell of the flowers mingled delightfully with the smell of a cooling dinner. It was one of my favorites: roasted lamb seasoned and rubbed with the herbs we grew in our backyard. As I approached the table, I saw that my wife – my beautiful, loving, thoughtful, amazing wife – had made me a complete meal. I was right about the roasted lamb. She probably traded half her haul from hunting for it. Not many people in District 12 carried or feasted on lamb, yet Katniss had managed to get her hands on the delectable meat. A colorful variety of roasted vegetables accompanied the lamb: red potatoes, yellow squash, mushrooms, carrots, broccoli, and sweet potatoes, among others. Two wine glasses sat at the two set places at the table, filled with the bittersweet red liquor. We didn't indulge much in alcohol unless it was a special occasion. Well, with the exception of my rum runs. Two candles were placed in the middle of the table to top it all off.

I looked back at Katniss, who had a shy smile playing the corners of her mouth. "You did all this?" I asked, honestly surprised.

"I did," she smiles at me. "Oh, wait. There's one more thing." She rushes past me to the oven and pulls something out. I know instantly what it is when the room fills with the aroma. I grew up around it and am surrounded by it on a daily basis. She does something at the stove and when she turns around, she presents me with a basket full of freshly made dinner rolls.

I laugh a little to myself as I reach out for the same ball of bread, breaking it in half and inhaling the smell. It warms my insides and oddly calms me. She watches me as I bring the bread up to my mouth and take a bite. I may have moaned a little. Ok, I did moan. I wasn't sure what to expect, but if Katniss opened a bakery selling these rolls, I'd be on a run for my money. "This is really good," I say before popping the rest of the bread in my mouth.

"You don't have to say that," she says a little deflated.

"Why? I'm telling the truth. Katniss, this bread is _seriously_ good. Who taught you to make this?"

She smiles at me and laughs. "You." I raise a brow. "I've watched you enough times and I thought I'd give it a try. The first couple of batches…didn't turn out so well. I had Rory help me a little yesterday. I wasn't letting the yeast rise enough or something."

I chuckle. "Well, this one was perfect." I place a soft kiss on her lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Come on, Mr. Mellark, let's eat."

"Why certainly, Mrs. Mellark," I say with a wink.

I can see the pink taking over her olive tone in her cheeks. No matter how many times I say it or how many years pass, she will always blush when I call her Mrs. Mellark. It's cute really. If I thought the bread was good, the rest of the meal was spectacular. The lamb was cooked perfectly, better than the ones we had when we were in the Capitol. She had made mashed potatoes along with the roasted vegetables. The light, fluffy mash was creamy in my mouth and tasted of chives and butter. The red wine warmed me from the inside out. I tried not to drink too much or too fast. I wanted to be coherent enough to carry a conversation with Katniss.

We talked about our days. She admitted that she had asked a few of our neighbors to place orders so that I would be so busy trying to fill them I would lose track of time. She told me not to worry because Rory was in on it too. I'm not sure if it was _supposed_ to make me feel better, but it still made me feel dumb because it was the middle of the week and there are never that many orders in the middle of the week. She told me about how Juliet came home more excited than Aden on a sugar high that her class was going to start music lessons next week. She was excited to share the songs her mommy sang the best with her class. She told me Aden had helped her knead the dough, but lost interest about two minutes in and raided the cookie jar instead. I smile like I do every time we talk about our kids. It took some convincing, but Katniss finally agreed to start a family with me. I couldn't imagine my life without them and I know Katniss can't either.

Our plates are nearly empty, glasses refilled several times and gone now. Our night has been more than great, but one question still lingers in my mind. My eyes are glued on the potatoes on my plate when I ask, "So did you talk to Gale?"

I look up at Katniss. Her fork is midway to her mouth, which hangs open in surprise. She puts her silverware back down and looks at me. "No," she lies.

I sigh and throw the napkin on my lap at my plate. "Damn it, Katniss," I growl. "Don't you lie to me. I know you saw him today."

She frowns. "Delly told you, didn't she?"

I laugh in spite of the situation. "Of course she did. I'm the one that told her to take you to Sae's. I called Sae and made sure they kept Gale by her stand until you and Delly got there."

She looks completely and utterly shocked. "You set it up?"

"Of course I did. I know you, Katniss. You wouldn't have gone to see him or even talked to him if someone didn't make you."

She looks furious now. "I can't _believe_ you, Peeta! I would have talked to him when I was good and ready to! You can't just…you…ugh!" She quickly got out of her seat and started to pace around the kitchen. She keeps bringing her hands up and swinging them back down in frustration. It's nice to know how I feel sometimes.

"We both know you weren't," I say calmly.

"Don't tell me what I would have or wouldn't have done, Peeta Mellark!" she snaps. Ok, so the calm thing didn't work.

"Then you look at me and tell me that I'm wrong. You tell me that you wouldn't have let him leave District 12 without having talked to him first." I rise to my feet and walk over to my wife. I place my hands on her arms and hold her still. She hates this. She hates when people try to control what she does. I place a finger under her chin and tilt it up toward me. "Tell me, Katniss."

Her gray eyes meet my blue ones and I see the tears welling up. She's furious. Maybe with me. Maybe with Gale. Maybe with herself. She hates being controlled, used like a pawn in a chess match. I shouldn't have tricked her; I knew this when I called Delly this morning. I just couldn't let her live with the regret of not connecting with Gale again. I wouldn't be able to live with the regret knowing I hadn't done something about it.

I expected my wife to say something. Tell me I was right, maybe. But she doesn't. She pulls away from my grasp and turns the other way. I've wounded her. Such a fragile bird, this Mockingjay. She is gentle, beautiful, and possessed the voice of an angel. Katniss Everdeen Mellark truly was a mockingjay. I had no right to trick her like this; not even where Gale was concerned.

"So stubborn," I sigh. I close the small gap between us and place my hands on her arms from behind and kiss the back of her head softly. "I'm sorry." I give her arms a small squeeze and clear the table.

She stands at the window, staring out at the lake as I clean. The only sound in the cabin is the water running, which seems like it grows louder as the silence continues. Once I've finished, I look over at Katniss again. "I'm going to get ready for bed," I tell her. "The sun is going to set soon and I don't want us to walk home in the dark." She makes no move to let me know she's even heard me.

There's one bedroom in the cabin. I had constructed it before the kids were born; back when Katniss was too afraid the Hunger Games would begin again and refused to put any child of ours through that kind of horror. I strip down to my boxers and my plain white t-shirt under my work shirt. Soft orange streaks signaling sunset stream through the window, filling the room. I know that the flowers in the next room were arranged to give off this same effect. Katniss had thought of everything to make sure tonight had gone perfect. She just never expected me to fuck it all up.

I don't realize she is in the room until her arms snake around my waist. I can feel the heat from her cheek against my back. We stand there silently as the sun kisses the horizon. This had been her intent. She wanted to watch the sunset with me. Her arms tighten around me and I feel her tears soaking the back of my shirt. I turn in her arms and our eyes meet again. How could I make such a perfect creature cry? I can be a horrible person sometimes.

"I'm sorry," she cries softly.

"No, Katniss. You have nothing to be sorry about," I say, trying to soothe her. "I shouldn't have lied or tricked you."

She shakes her head, the tears falling freely. "You were right though, Peeta. I would have let Gale leave without a word to him. I wasn't ready to deal with the issues I had…I mean, I have with him." She hugs me, resting her head on my chest with her ear pressed over where my heart is. "It _was_ nice to see him. For a while, it was like the old days. We were sitting there, laughing, talking about the kids, his life in District 2." She lets out a heavy breath. "Then I mentioned his family and he shut me out. He was angry and he made some stupid comment about me not wanting to make you wait. I don't think he meant it to be an insult, but it made me angry."

I look down at her. "Is that what tonight is about?"

She pulls back just slightly and shakes her head furiously. "No, no. Tonight has nothing to do with Gale. I just wanted to be with you, Peeta. I wanted tonight to be about us. I just…I love you so much sometimes I think I've gone mad."

I cup her face in my hands and lean down, pressing my lips against hers. I can taste the wine on her lips. It's addicting, but nowhere near as addicting as her. The sun is gone from the sky and the moon has dominated it once more. The soft glow of the moon fills the room, illuminating her features almost unnaturally. The moon shines off her sleek dark hair, her gray eyes almost disappearing in the gray glow from the moon. She is beautiful. She's always beautiful. My hands move to her hair, reaching back to release the braid. Her beautiful curls fall in a wave against her back. I can feel her hands on my face, holding me in her grasp and pulling me closer.

She is my drug. My addiction. I need her. I need her like I need air. I kiss her with more passion, more intensity. Her body is pressed firmly against mine and, yet, we still aren't close enough. I have a sudden realization that there is too much between us. Three layers separate me from my wife. My clothes and hers – bra and panties included. She comes to the same conclusion and releases me from her grasp. I am not so quick to let her go. The moment we pull apart, her hands are pulling at my shirt. She wants it off so bad, her hands are shaking.

I have to take a breath and hold her hands still to calm down before we can continue. We're both breathing heavily. I take her hands that are still trembling slightly and bring them to my lips, kissing them softly. Slowly, she pulls my shirt over my head, sliding her hands down to rest on my chest. They remain there as I unbutton her blouse. I know she can feel my heart racing like it does every time it does when she is around. I push the thin fabric off her shoulders and let it soundlessly fall to the floor. My hands find the button to her jeans. Now my hands are shaking. I curse under my breath as I fumble with the pesky button. She places her hands over mine and helps me to unfasten her jeans. She wiggles out of them easily.

I have to take a moment to bask in the glory that is my wife. I feel young again, like I had the first time we were together. We were only 17 then; neither of us knew what to do. We were inexperienced when it came to the opposite sex's anatomy. But I knew it now. Hers at least. And she knew mine. We knew where to touch, feel, kiss, and tease. We knew what the other wanted, when we wanted it, and how we wanted it. All that mattered right now was getting her out of her bra and panties.

She makes the first move, closing the small gap between us. She runs her hands over my shoulders, down my arms and chest, and journeying further down to my abdomen. The scars are barely noticeable now, but they are there. They will never fade completely. They are an everyday reminder of what we had been put through and the people we have lost. I touch the disturbed skin where she was burned from the bombs also. Even now, in this horrible way, we match. Just as we had when we went to the Games. She had been very reluctant to let me see her naked before. She didn't want me to see her scars, inside and out. There are times she still is hesitant. I feel her shudder under my touch. Even after fifteen years together, she is still I won't like that I see. As if she is damaged by the imperfects of her body.

"Beautiful," I whisper as I claim her lips with my own again. I am drunk from her kiss and touch. I need more of her. I move my hands to her back and fumble with the clasp of her bra. I'll be honest. I was never very suave when it came to undressing her. I could barely get my own clothes off. I've fallen over taking my shirt off before. But when she undresses either of us, it is seductive, exotic, sexual. There's something in the way she looks at me. Her eyes trained to stay on me as she strips of her clothes. She helps me to unclasp the pesky undergarment and tosses it aside.

I moan into her mouth when her breasts press against my bare chest. She never has difficultly exciting me. I feel her grin again my lips as I grow harder, pressing into her stomach. There was a time I was afraid that she would catch me excited because of her and turn me away. I learned quickly that she liked the fact that she could have that effect on me. Her hand slips into my boxers and I have to remind myself to breathe. I feel her small hand wrap around my hardness and slowly moves it up and down my length. My eyes are shut tightly as she strokes me in my boxers. My body feels like it's on fire and I'm doing all I can not to lose control.

Katniss's free hand clasps the back of my neck, playing with the small hairs back there the way I like. When she grasps me firmer and runs her finger over the head of my cock, I growl into her mouth. She wants me to be more aggressive and that is what she will get. I wrap my arms around her and carry her over to the bed. She giggles as we drop to the mattress. She shoves my boxers off and returns her strokes to a slow pace. She's going to be the death of me. I may have gotten a little too excited because in the following seconds, I rip the thin fabric she has left on her body and toss the ruined material aside.

She releases me and I stand at the foot of the bed. I always take a moment to take awe at her body. Everything about her, her hair, eyes, smile, and, yes, even her scars are gorgeous. She bites her bottom lip and pushes herself up on her elbows. I give a sloppy grin and crawl to hoover over her. My lips on hers again. I run my tongue along her bottom lip, letting her know I wish to gain access into her mouth. She is more than happy to oblige. Her mouth is warm and tastes like the wine we drank earlier. I ease my weight onto her as she wraps her arms around me. She has always felt the need to hold me close as if to keep me from leaving. Like I could.

I do not own her. She is my wife, but I belong to her. Every part of me, every beat of my heart. I am hers and hers alone. She holds my face and our eyes meet. In this moment, the only two people in the world are Katniss and me. I spread her legs and brush my fingers between her hot core. She is wet and ready for me. I let my fingers brush lightly against the small nub of flesh that makes her scream in pleasure. She moans my name into the night air as I continue to gently rub her. She's writhing beneath me, breathing out incoherent words. I take one of her nipples in my mouth and suck on it lightly at first, gradually building the pressure. Soon all she can to is whimper and moan.

Her breathing is heavy. Her body slick with sweat. She is clawing at my back, begging me to make love to her. I relish these moments when she relinquishes control to me. I hardly feel the need to feel like an alpha male, but I would be lying to say I didn't like it. She grabs my throbbing cock when I do not give her what she wants quick enough. Her hand is moving furiously up and down my length. I have to stop her movements. She still holds me in her hand as our eyes lock. I nudge her legs apart with my knee and position myself between her legs. She is ready for me. More than.

Katniss helps guide me into her body. We both let out a long, heavy moan as I fill her. She feels tight around me. When we come together we fit perfectly. We are complete, whole. In many ways, we complete each other. She lifts her hips toward me, letting me know she wants me to start moving. My strokes are slow at first. I let her feel every inch of me as I am taken over the feeling of being inside of her. My lips find her neck again, kissing, sucking, and biting at her salty skin.

She pants in my ear as her fingers claw at my back. I don't care that there will be marks in the morning. My body is hers to do with as she pleases. Her teeth graze my ear lobe as she moans a single word into my ear, "Faster."

I lean onto my forearms, pressing my forehead against hers as I quicken my pace. My thrusts are harder, pushing deeper into the depths of my wife's body. She whimpers when I hit her special spot. She just moans my name over and over again as if I've forgotten what it was. Her legs wrap around my waist as she moves with me now. I join her in the chorus of moans, her name a prayer on my lips. She makes that sounds she always does when she is about to cum. I hook one of her legs under my arm, pulling it up a little and my thrusts become frantic. Her moans grow louder. I reach down and pinch her clit and she screams out my name as an orgasm hits her. I thrust wildly into her until I can't take it anymore. I fill her with my cum and call out her name.

My arms are about to give out so I collapse gently on top of her body, my face buried in the crook of her neck. We're both breathing heavily. I grow soft inside of her and stay in her for a moment before rolling on my side. She is instantly in my arms again, holding onto me. We're silent for a long time. I listen to our hearts trying to find a normal rhythm again. Katniss looks up at me and I smile down at her lazily. Our lips meet, but the kiss is soft. Gentle.

"I love you, Peeta," she tells me.

"I love you," I say back to her. There are many word we have left unspoken. Things we need to clear up and talk about, but for now we both close our eyes and allow sleep to take over. The evening may not have been as perfect as she expected, but it was in that very moment.


	6. Forgiveness

_**A/N: I had intended to get this chapter up days ago, but I've been ridiculously busy at home and at work. It's not my best work, but I owe it to you all to have something up. Also, I'm thinking about writing some side stories to run with this one. One being how Peeta ended up hiring Rory and another, possibly, about Katniss's suicide attempt. There are several ideas I have that I want to get out, but do not need to be in this story itself. Let me know what you guys would like. As always, reviews=quicker update.  
><strong>_

_**This chapter is dedicated to my brother, who reminds me every day how lucky I am to still have him around. Life's too short to be bitter, so eat a strawberry. (Inside joke)  
><strong>_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

_**Chapter 6 – Forgiveness**_

* * *

><p><em>Weep for yourself, my man,<br>You'll never be what is in your heart  
>Weep Little Lion Man<br>You're not as brave as you were at the start  
>Rate yourself and rake yourself<br>Take all the courage you have left  
>Wasted on fixing all the problems<br>That you made in your own head_

_But it was not your fault but mine  
>And it was your heart on the line<br>I really fucked it up this time  
>Didn't I my dear?<em>

"_Little Lion Man" Mumford and Sons_

* * *

><p>My intent was to spend the weekend alone with Peeta at the lake, but neither of us could spend another day without Juliet and Aden. Peeta especially. When we woke Saturday morning, all he could do was talk about the kids, asking what I thought they were doing, and fussing over what Haymitch was feeding them. He was made to be a father. He was ready for kids when I was still struggling to adjust to being married. As scared as I was about bringing new life into this old, broken world, I wanted to make Peeta happy. I wanted to do something for him after everything he had done for me. Being a father was second nature to him and being away from the kids for too long just wasn't something he could do.<p>

So Saturday morning after breakfast and a swim, we headed back home. It was a good thing we came home when we did. Haymitch was a sucker when it came to the kids. He let them do, eat, and say what they want. They were as free as his birds. Our old mentor's home was turned upside down. There were cookie crumbs, crayons, and what I pray is juice all over his kitchen and living room. Aden was passed out in just his shorts on the couch with a juice box in one hand and a candy bar in the other. Juliet was sprawled out lazily on a play mat watching cartoons on the television set. In one day, my babies had turned into couch potatoes. I had Peeta gather the kids as I grabbed their bags from the spare bedroom they slept in as Haymitch ignored the fact I was pissed at him.

"I don't see what the big fuss is all about," Haymitch mumbled as he plopped into his recliner we got him three years ago. "They're kids. They should be having fun."

"They have fun at home, Haymitch," Peeta sighs as he shuts the TV off and waits for Juliet to move.

"Oh yea, because you two are such party animals. Bake bread, kill squirrels. Every kids' dream."

"Don't you patronize us Haymitch Abernathy," I scold as I help Juliet to her feet. "You act as if what _you_ do all day is at all acceptable."

"I'm just an old drunk to you two," he grumbles. "If you disapprove so much, don't leave them with me anymore."

"Oh don't act like you won't miss them," Peeta chuckles. He adjusts Aden on his shoulder and pats Haymitch on his. "We'll see you on Monday for dinner."

We head for the door as Haymitch yells, "I won't go!"

"Yes, you will," I call back to him. "You'll be there. You always are."

As much as Haymitch complains about us and threatens not to speak to us ever again, we know he cares. After his family was slaughtered by the Capitol, he has had no one to care for him or help him through the darkness that came with winning the Games. Not until Peeta and I came along. He had a family again. As screwed up and broken as we were, he had us. When the kids came along, his outlook on life improved even more. He actually smiled. He laughed at actual jokes and not crude comments. He even drank a little less. Not much less, but less all the same. He had a reason to be sober again. Haymitch also knew that we didn't want that type of behavior around the kids. He didn't want to miss a moment in Juliet or Aden's lives, so he gave in a little.

Peeta, the kids, and I spent the rest of the weekend at home. On Sunday, Juliet went with Peeta into town like they did every week. They would stop by the bakery where she would make cookies, cupcakes, or muffins to bring home to me and her brother. Sundays were meant for Peeta and Juliet and for me and Aden. On Sundays, Aden and I walk to the meadow. He would place the fistful of dandelions he brings on top of the grave markers for Madge and Peeta's family. He always brought a special flower with him for a very special person - a primrose from the bushes along the side of the house for Prim. He would kiss the flower before he put it down for his aunt he would never know.

His feet come down just as noisily as his father's, scaring away any and every animal within ear shot. He's so much like Peeta it's crazy, but when he opens his mouth and sings I know he is mine. The four of us meet back at the house midafternoon and cook dinner as a family. Aden excitedly runs to Peeta and insists that he help with the bread and dessert for dinner. Juliet joins my side, washing vegetables and getting things from the cupboard to season whatever meat I decide to cook.

"We saw the Peacekeeper man again, Momma," Juliet says suddenly.

I look over at Peeta who seems to be even more intrigued with the ball of dough on the counter now. "Did you baby girl?" I ask calmly. "Did you talk to him?"

"Nope," she sighs. "Poppa talked lots though."

"And what did Poppa say?"

"Poppa said he wanted him to come see him tomorrow and he is going to talk to Uncle Rory about being a…um…" She makes a face and leans over toward me. "Poppa said a bad word."

"Tattle-tale," Peeta teases.

"Is Daddy in trouble Momma?" Aden asks as he continues to knead the dough.

"Big trouble!" I say dramatically. I fake a mad face and point a finger at Peeta. "Daddy, no dessert for you and you're cleaning up the kitchen tonight."

He's trying his best not to laugh out loud. He pushes his bottom lip out and pretends to pout. I just laugh and toss a piece of carrot at him. "Momma! No throwing food!" Aden said with his chubby little hands on his hips. He looks so much like Peeta right now I can't help but smile.

"I'm sorry my angel. Momma promises not to do it again." Aden seems to have accepted this because he hops around in a circle a few times before turning his attention back to the dough.

I return to my task as well. I decide to let the Gale issue slide for now. I can't remember a time when Peeta and Gale were truly alone together. I have a feeling that there was a reason for that. Not just because they had both loved me, but because they were so different and so much alike. Anyone that didn't think Peeta could have a temper was fooling themselves. Once dinner was ready, I watched Juliet set up the plates. She was very precise in everything she did. She took everything into detail, creating masterpieces with food. She has an eye for beauty in the smallest things. In this way, she is exactly like Peeta.

During dinner, the kids are trying to talk louder than the other as usual. They both want the parent they did not spend the day with to know every little detail of what happened when they were apart. Peeta looks up at me from across the table and just smiles. It's these little moments that he craves. I wonder if this is what his life was like when he was a child. Although, it's hard to imagine that his mother was a very patient woman. Whenever we talk about his family, Peeta doesn't talk much about his mother. It was clear that she played favorites with her sons and Peeta wasn't that. She had a lack of faith in him and didn't think much of him at all. Even though my mother was distant and practically dead to the world for a long time, I still knew she loved me. She told me once she knew I would come home from the Games. She knew I would win. For Prim if nothing else.

Peeta's mother's lack of faith and affection toward her youngest son only made Peeta strive to be the best father he could. He wanted to be like his father; loving, thoughtful, and supportive. Watching the way Juliet and Aden strive to make Peeta proud only proves he is every bit of the father he misses dearly and then some. He is an amazing father and an even more amazing man. I wouldn't have had these little angels if it weren't for the man sitting across the table from me. I probably wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for him. Scratch that. I _know_ I wouldn't be.

After dinner, Peeta cleans the kitchen while I have the difficult task of getting the kids ready for bed. I have to commend Peeta for his patience. He has always been able to stay cool, calm, and collected when he puts the kids to bed. He never loses his temper or feels overwhelmed. In fact, I've caught him a few times in the kids' room running around with them and playing games. He's always been the "fun" parent. I was the one that worried about every little thing. I thought things were too dangerous and too risky for my kids to do. I wasn't very fun at all.

I make it back to the bedroom before Peeta. He's very detailed about how he cleans. Sometimes I think he has OCD, but in reality, he gets it from working in a bakery all his life and living by certain standards when it comes to the kitchen. I look up when I hear the bedroom door open and my husband walks in. I can tell he is tired, but he doesn't show it. He gives me a quick smile before retreating to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed. When he emerges, he is in his boxers and a plain white t-shirt, a lazy smile playing on his lips. He crawls into the bed and rests his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his golden locks. We're silent, just enjoying the other's company. I love when we do this. I feel so close to him, making a sound feels like a crime.

Peeta rolls onto his back so he faces the ceiling and looks up at me. "I missed you today," he says suddenly. "As much as I love having Sundays just for Juliet, I can't wait to go home to you and Aden."

"I know how you feel," I tell him as I continue to stroke his hair. "For two hours, all Aden talks about is how much he loves spending time with you and what he does with you when he goes to the bakery to help his Daddy. We go home early sometimes hoping you and Juliet will do the same."

Peeta just chuckles. When Aden was born, Juliet started to feel left out. Mommy and Daddy suddenly had this pink little person they fussed over constantly. Every Sunday, Peeta decided he would take our daughter out and spend the whole day with her. They did anything she wanted, which usually was going to the bakery to make special cookies for me. When Aden was able to understand that Daddy and sister were having a special day together, Sundays also became about me and him. I loved my Sundays with my son, but I love when we're a complete family more.

"I saw Gale today," Peeta says suddenly.

"So I've heard," I say somewhat teasingly. "You didn't _go_ to see him did you?"

He shook his head. "No, this was pure coincidence. Juliet wanted to get some flowers and ran into him in the square. He's staying at the hotel over there. God knows Rory would have a shit fit if he stayed at the house. You know, Rory can be very mature and every bit of an adult any of us are. But then there are times when he's just a big baby. Gale and I may not be friends, but he shouldn't be so hard on the guy."

I can tell Peeta is very bothered by the fact that Rory refuses to even consider forgiving Gale. Honestly, I'm not even sure why Rory holds so much anger toward his brother. Peeta, who had two older brothers, chokes up when he talks about his long gone brothers. Even after one of them just stood by and watched as their baby brother was reaped and hurled into the Hunger Games when he could have easily taken his place. Even then Peeta remained faithful to them. Peeta loved his brothers and he still does. There's a picture of the three Mellark brothers in his office at the bakery beside a picture of Juliet and Aden. This is one of the many ways he is stronger than me. He surrounds himself with memories of those he has lost and loved. I, on the other hand, can barely look at the bushes he planted on the side of my house fifteen years ago without tearing up.

"I told Gale I'd talk to him," Peeta says, breaking the silence.

"Why are you being so nice to him?" I ask. I didn't mean it to sound accusatory, but I know that's how it sounded. Though, I do wonder if there is an ulterior motive at play.

I watched Peeta as he thought carefully about my question. I think part of him wonders the same thing. "He's important. Maybe not to me, but to Rory, the rest of the Hawthornes…you."

"He's not important to me."

He laughs at my statement. "Yes he is. You can deny it, but he is." He sits up and brushes his lips against mine. "You loved him once. You two were best friends and closer than many people ever dream to be with another person. That kind of bond never goes away."

"I love you," I whisper.

"And I love you," he smiles. "But that doesn't mean Gale can't be important to you too." He kisses me again before pulling his legs onto the bed. "Come on," he says as he lowers into the sheets, "we've got a big day tomorrow."

He switches off the light on his nightstand and settles into the bed, his eyes closing as he slips into a deep slumber. I lay beside him, praying that sleep with come for me too. But Peeta's words echo in my mind. He was right. Gale and I did…_do_ share a special bond. What that bond is, I'm not sure anymore. Peeta wants me to find out, that is for sure. He wants me to forgive Gale like he so easily and openly as he did. There really isn't anything to forgive. I haven't made much attempt to contact him over the years. Just once, before Peeta and I got married. I never told Peeta since it seemed pointless, especially because I had gotten no response. I look over at my husband sleeping soundly beside me. He has done so much for me in the years we have known each other. He doesn't ask much of me and what he asks isn't even for him. It's for Gale, who he doesn't even like. Does his selflessness ever cease? Probably not. Then he wouldn't be Peeta.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to come again. I'll need all the rest I can get if I am to see Gale again.

* * *

><p>When morning comes, I wake to find the spot beside me empty. I'm surprised Peeta sisn't wake me before heading to work. I'm actually kind of disappointed. I drag myself out of bed and get ready for the day. When I head down the hall to Juliet and Aden's room, I'm in for another surprise. The room is clean and the kids are gone. I find a note on the fridge informing me that Peeta took the liberty of walking Juliet to school and taking our son to work with him today, claiming that he needed some quality time with his three-year-old double. I have to roll my eyes. He swears that he doesn't get enough time alone with Aden. The two look and act so much alike sometimes, I wonder if Peeta had really been the one to give birth to the solid mass of boy.<p>

I know what this is really about. "You better not regret this, Peeta Mellark," I say aloud.

As I'm heading out the door, I'm surprised to see someone on the other side. "Gale?" I say, shocked to see him at my door.

"Oh, sorry," he says, pulling his hand back. It looked as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to knock or ring the bell. I think he even considered turning around and leaving. "I wasn't sure if anyone was home."

"I was, um, just about to leave."

"Oh. I can let you go. I was just…"

"Did Peeta send you?" I ask, interrupting him as the thought occurs to me. "He promised me he was going to let it be. I can't believe him!"

Gale's holding his hands up now and shaking his head. "No, no, no," he spouts quickly. "He didn't send me." He cleared his throat and looks away for a moment. He actually looks uncomfortable. "I actually came to, uh, see…him."

I literally have to take a step back because Gale's confession catches me off guard. Gale coming to see Peeta? Now that is something I never thought I would see happen. "You're here to see Peeta?" Gale nods. "You, Gale Hawthorne, are here to see…Peeta." He raises a brow and nods again slowly. "Peeta Mellark, my husband Peeta Mellark."

"Ok, I really don't know how many times I have to tell you yes. He's the only Peeta I know. I think he's the only 'Peeta' anyone knows."

"Why?" I ask, ignoring his joke.

"Because," he sighs, "he made me an offer yesterday and I wanted to take him up on it."

"What kind of offer?"

Gale looks down at his feet. "He, um, he said he would…" He has to stop and take a deep breath. This must be really hard on him. I know he feels the same way as I do when it comes to favors and owing people. And owing Peeta was like making a deal with Lucifer himself to my childhood best friend. Whatever Peeta promised him must have been big. "He said he'd help me out with something."

I just nod, deciding not to push. If or when he wants me to know, he'll tell me in his own time. "He left for work already," I inform him. I'm about to tell him he should stop by the bakery, but I remember that Rory is working and decide against it. "I can let him know you stopped by."

"I'd appreciate that," Gale smiles. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way." He awkwardly takes a step back and turns on his heel to leave.

He's about to head down the porch steps when I hear myself saying, "Do you want to come inside?"

I'm torn between regret and hope when he turns around, staring at me with his gray eyes. Letting him into the home I share with Peeta and our family almost feels wrong. It's as if it is forbidden territory. But Peeta wants me to bury whatever hatchet is between Gale and me. He wants peace. I want peace. I want my friend back. As much as I miss them, I can't have Madge, Finnick, Rue, or Prim back. They are long gone to a place I cannot yet follow. But Gale is here and alive. I can have him back if we try.

"Sure," Gale says, unsure of his answer.

I step aside from the doorframe, allowing him to cross the threshold. I know that there is no turning back now. I hope Peeta knows what he is doing and what he is asking for because I have a feeling he may not like the outcome.


	7. The Calm Before

_**A/N: As some of you may have guessed, the last chapter was more of a filler if anything. lol. Honestly, I just wanted to get it up and be done with it because I have a hard time with Katniss. Anyway, another chapter for you good people. Reviews are appreciated. Helps me write ;)**_

_**This chapter is for my cousin, who loves drama. Not much else to say is there?  
><strong>_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

_**Chapter 7 – The Calm Before**_

* * *

><p><em>Time can heal, but the scars only hide the way you feel,<br>And it's hard to forget how I left you hanging  
>On by a thread, when everything is said, I will regret it, yeah<br>I was doin' alright, thought I could make it,  
>Then I see your face and it's hard to fake it<em>

"_Crawling Back to You" Daughtry_

* * *

><p><em>I shouldn't be here.<em> Those were the words being screamed in my head. That little angel sitting on my shoulder is jumping up and down, swinging his little harp and halo at me. I could tell that Katniss wasn't so sure about the idea of inviting me in, but I didn't turn her down. I knew she wasn't sure how she was taking my return and I'm probably taking advantage by being alone with her in her house. Before I walked in, I caught a glimpse of a curtain moving in a window next door. I expected Haymitch to be watching. He didn't trust me much fifteen years ago and he probably distrusts me more now. After all, I'm alone in Golden Boy's house with his wife. It isn't that Peeta trusts me. I'd be a fool to think he does. But he trusts Katniss. He trusts his wife enough to allow her to be alone with someone that not only loved her once, but she loved in return. I haven't deciphered that one yet.

I felt Haymitch's cold gray eyes following me until I crossed the threshold of the Mellark residence. There's something about him that just freaks me out. It has nothing to do with the fact he won the Games when the odds were, literally, doubled for him to have died in the arena. No. It's something else. I can't exactly put my finger on it, but there's something about him I know I wouldn't want to mess with. I'm glad to have escaped his watchful eyes when I enter Katniss's home. I wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but what's before my eyes definitely isn't it.

The plain white walls are covered with the most breath-taking paintings I've ever seen. Most of the paintings were of District 12. Not the reformed city outside the front door, but the broken, deprived, depressing District that struggled to stay alive. Each building, every person, every emotion is captured like a picture perfect memory on the canvas. The purpose of the paintings was obviously to get the viewer to feel something and maybe make them remember what their past was like. To never forget. The artist was unnaturally talented in capturing emotion and memories. It was pretty unnerving really.

"Peeta did them," Katniss says, as if she could tell what I was thinking. She smiles as she stares up at a picture above the fireplace. It was of the original Mellark Bakery on a rainy day. A skinny dark-haired girl is huddled by a tree and a blond boy stands a fair distance from her with what looks like burned bread in his hands. "Of all the things he paints, I love these the most."

"Why?" I'm compelled to ask. I really want to know. I don't think I'd be able to be surrounded by the past every day. To see what I've lost and what I had to go through…I couldn't do it.

"Because they're not of the Games," she said softly. Her eyes are fixated on the painting. "Or me. He loves to paint me. It's been his own sort of therapy since we won the Games."

We stand there staring up at the picture for a while. "That's you and Peeta isn't it?" I suddenly ask. I can see her nod in the corner of my eye.

"The first time he saved my life." She looks over at me, her eyes sad now. "I'm sorry, Gale."

"For what?" I ask as I turn toward her.

"For the other day. For…for the last fifteen years." I can see that she's really struggling. She hasn't had to deal with the lack of closure between us for a long time, but now that I'm standing right beside her, there's no running.

"I'm sorry too. I was upset and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. As for the last fifteen years…"I shrug, not exactly sure what to say. "I have no excuse, other than I'm stupid."

"I wrote to you."

I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "I know," is all I can say. She looks at me with this look that says she wants an explanation. "I'm sorry I didn't write back."

"Why didn't you, Gale?"

I didn't know the answer to that. For months, I sat at my desk with a blank piece of paper in front of me. I willed myself to pick up the pen and write something; anything. I just couldn't. I didn't know what to say and feared what I might. When she lost Prim and the possibility that my bomb could have killed her, we knew things would never be the same. I thought it was easier to just leave. To act as if we weren't important to each other. But we were. Answering her letter meant that there was something between us, even if it was long gone. It meant that I had walked out of her life when she needed me the most. It meant I would have to admit the mistakes I had made. I just wasn't ready for that. I'm not sure if I ever will be.

"I don't know. I know it's not the answer you were looking for, but it's the truth. I am sorry though. If it counts for anything."

She lets out a heavy sigh. She isn't happy with my answer, but she's accepting it. "How about I make us some tea and we can talk?" she asks. I'm thankful we're dropping the subject. I nod and she turns to get us some tea. "The living room is right in the other room. You might be more comfortable in there." I know what she's saying: I won't be surrounded by Peeta's memorial to the past. I gladly walk down the small hall into the next room.

This room is a lot different. The room is better lit, making it brighter. There are more paintings, but these aren't so…depressing. There are vibrant colors on the canvases: yellows, oranges, greens, blues. The furniture in the first room was a cream color (almost like the color of a ball of dough) as if only they only sit there when they have guests. Here, the couch is a light brown and made of a soft material. It looks like it was meant to be much more comfortable. It's obviously where they spend time with the kids. I can't imagine them allowing their son and daughter around white upholstery. The pillows thrown on the couch are shades of green, making it look almost like a tree. It's cute really.

I take this opportunity to take a better look around. The book shelf is mostly children's books. There are also a few ones on art, music, and even a cookbook or two. The collection of books Peeta and Katniss seem to have made themselves catches my eye. The leather bound journal that Katniss's father made on plants he's come across sits at the end of the row beside a book permanently stained with food dye. The name "Mellark" is printed down the spine in neat, bold letters. I figure it is Peeta's family's book of recipes. I spot an unlabeled book and curiosity gets the best of me. I pull it from the shelf and open it. I nearly drop it when a familiar set of bright blue eyes stare up at me. Prim's smiling face looks up at me from the page and I feel a chill run down my spine. I don't read what's on the page beside it, but flip through the book.

With each turn of the page, a new face stares up at me, each belonging to someone who died. Finnick, Rue, Thresh, Cinna. I wonder how or why they would have a book like this in their house, let alone why they would _make_ one. When I get to the pages dedicated to Madge Undersee, I slam the book shut. I can't bear to see her face. My heart aches just thinking about her. She didn't have to die, but I couldn't save her. God knows I tried. I quickly replace the book when I hear Katniss returning. I manage to force a smile when she enters the room with two mugs in her hands.

"I'd offer you some food too, but we don't have anything prepared," she chuckles. "Peeta usually brings home some bread and dessert."

"Don't worry about it. I'm not very hungry anyway," I say as I take the cup from her. It's true. I'm not hungry. I actually don't think I could hold anything down now if I tried. "Thanks," I smile before taking a sip of the tea. I hope she doesn't notice my unease. "You have a nice house."

"Thanks," she says quickly. "Pe…" She stops herself from mentioning her husband again. "It wasn't my choice in décor."

"You have a choice in décor?" I ask, holding back my laughter.

"I wanted everything to be simple. Plain. But no. Some people want visitors to know we personalized the place." She shrugs. "I just told him not to put those paintings of the Games up and he could do whatever he wanted."

"Hey, why aren't there any pictures?"

"There are. The paintings."

"No, I mean _real_ pictures."

"Cameras have been following us around since the day we were reaped. I don't want every moment of my life to be followed by a stupid camera. We have a few pictures." She pointed over at a table beside the couch. "There's the day Juliet was born, when Aden was born, a family picture Annie snapped of us when she came to visit this past summer, and…Peeta's and my wedding picture. The, um, one we did publically. You know, the one Plutarch insisted we have."

I just nodded. I had heard that they were planning to marry publically a few years ago, but that kind of news wasn't exactly important in District 2. If it wasn't a matter of national importance, we wouldn't hear about it until long after the fact. In this case, it was something I was very thankful for.

"It must have been some event," is all I can say.

"I guess," she says nonchalantly. "They just wanted us to do it for the sake of publicity. We'd actually been married for a while before that." I raised a brow. This I didn't know. She caught onto my shock quickly. "We got married a little after I wrote you. It was a small thing. Just Haymitch, Johanna, Annie and Finn, Delly, and my mom were there. We had our toasting and that was it." It was hard to miss the smile. She was really happy. I could tell that day truly was one of the best days of her life and it pains me to know that I wasn't part of it in anyway.

Another silence settles in the air. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but neither of us knew what to say. We both knew what we wanted to say: if I had written her back, she would have asked me to come. My response would have been the real question. The pain of losing her was still fresh. It was probably best that I wasn't. I was likely to have made a fool of myself. The long ring of Katniss's telephone cut through the air. She looks toward the kitchen, where the phone must be located, for a moment and turns back to her cup. I expect her to answer it, but she doesn't budge.

"What day is it?" she asks instead.

"Monday," I reply suspiciously.

"What time?"

I look at my watch and reply, "Twelve-thirty exactly." She just nods and sips her tea. "Aren't you going to get that?"

She shakes her head this time. "It's for Peeta," she replies simply.

"How do you…"

"I said it's for Peeta," she interrupts sharply.

I shut my mouth quickly and we listen to the phone ring three more times before it finally stops. I decide to drop the subject. There's no need to start another argument when we're actually getting along again. Though, curiosity is itching at the back of my mind. She knew that the call would be for Peeta. It had to have been a weekly thing because she wouldn't have asked for the date or time. But who would be calling Peeta that made Katniss so edgy and upset? For the briefest moment, my mind entertained the idea that perhaps Peeta was having an affair, but I knew Peeta. The sun rose and set on Katniss. He's loved her longer than anyone. He wouldn't be stupid enough to cheat on her and have his mistress call the house while his wife was home. Right?

"You still hunt?" I ask, needing to get my mind off of the thoughts of Peeta and adultery.

Katniss smiles again at the thought. "You know, there are some things that _are_ still the same around here," she teases. "I go a few days during the week. It's easier now that Juliet is in school. I don't have to worry that Haymitch will lose her and or Aden while I'm gone."

"Ok, I have to ask. You really trust Haymitch with your kids?"

She looks at me as if another head has sprouted from my neck. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because he's Haymitch? Old, drunk, profane Haymitch Abernathy, bitter to everything around him."

She shakes her head. "Not anymore. Things have changed, Gale. If you came to visit more, you might know that."

"The trains work both ways, you know. You're always free to come to District 2."

She looks down at her cup in her hands. "No I can't," she whispers. "I'm still not allowed to leave."

My mouth goes dry. Katniss's confession catches me off guard. It's been fifteen years since she killed Coin in Snow's place. Panem has lived in peace for a decade and a half because of Katniss. I doubt people knew how cruel Coin could have been. Honestly, after having worked closely with her, I think we could have been headed toward another dictatorship. Maybe one worse than when Snow was president. Luckily, we'll never have to find out.

"I'm sorry," I say softly. "I thought…I didn't mean to…" She just shakes her head, understanding what I was trying to say. "I would have come home, but I wasn't ready. I have a lot of demons to face and they scare the hell out of me. I'm not ready to face them."

"Am I one of them?"

My throat tightens. She wants the truth; it's all she's ever wanted from me. "Yes." Her eyes are glued on the cup now. I'm afraid I may have hurt her with my answer, but I couldn't lie. She would know. "People were always careful not to talk about you around me. Most of them knew our past and I thought they weren't telling me because they thought I wouldn't care. It took something to happen with someone…important for me to see that they weren't telling me so I wouldn't be hurt."

"Your wife?" she asked looking at me finally. I nearly drop my cup. How did she know I had been married? I wasn't someone important enough for people to want to know. The only person that knew in 12 was… "Hazelle told Peeta."

"She told _Peeta?"_

"Well, not really. She came to the bakery to order a special cake and went on a trip. When she came back, she said the people it was for loved it. She saved up for it and he made up a special event at the bakery so she didn't have to pay full price. It was really good too. Buttercream and…"

"Hazelnut. With a white cake dipped in buttermilk. A pearl fondant with blue, yellow, and purple lilies." The realization hit us at the same time, but I was the one that said it aloud. "Peeta made my wedding cake didn't he?"

She was trying hard not to laugh at the irony of it all, but was failing miserably. We just laughed. The girl I first loved's husband unknowingly made my wedding cake. As we laughed, I couldn't help but feel as if a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I wasn't tense or afraid around her. I felt comfortable. Like I had when we were young. It felt good to be around her again, laughing like there wasn't a care in the world. Like so many years ago, we would have to come back to reality. There were deeper issues at bay.

"So where is Mrs. Gale Hawthorne?" she asks with an odd tone in her voice. I can't quite figure out what it is, but it is a bit unnerving.

"Back in District 2, I would assume," I reply. "But she isn't Mrs. Gale Hawthorne."

"Trying that thing where the wife keeps her maiden name? Peeta said I could, but I knew…"

"We're divorced," I interrupt. Katniss's mouth shuts quickly. "Um, it didn't work out so we divorced a few months ago."

"Oh, Gale, I'm sorry."

She covers my hand with her own and I feel my entire body heat up. Even after fifteen years apart, she still has an effect on me. I'm finding it very difficult to forget that I cannot win her affections. She isn't a girl I can court and eventually settle down with. She isn't just some guy's girl. She's a man's wife – Peeta Mellark's wife. She married him; not once, but twice. It isn't right for me to feel the way I do, but I can't help it. She's Katniss. She's that girl I hunted with in the woods every day for years. She's the girl I'd given my whole heart too when she had split hers into two, giving me one piece and the other – the bigger part – to Peeta.

I don't know what's come over me but I feel myself moving closer to her slowly. I can tell by her look that she doesn't realize what's going on. She doesn't know what I'm about to do. I don't even know. We won't find out because there's a cheerful rap at the door and Katniss quickly pulls her hand back and stands. I think she finally realized that my intentions may not have been so friendly a moment ago. I should feel embarrassed but I don't.

"I should get that," she says as she sets her cup down. She doesn't wait for my response before leaving the room.

I regain whatever is left of my sanity. I was telling myself that she was off-limits and a second later I was trying to…what was I trying to do? Kiss her? Take her away from Peeta? I let out a sigh because I never thought I would be _that_ guy. I never thought that I would be trying to steal another man's wife, yet the thought is there. It's enough to make me feel dirty.

"What are you doing here?" I hear Katniss ask her visitor. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

Suddenly, I feel panic rising. Is it Peeta? What would he do if he caught me in his house alone with his wife? She'd tell him about what happened between us. She'd tell him I tried to kiss her (though it's still debatable that's what I was doing). He'd kill me and Haymitch would help him bury the body. I'd never been one to run from a fight, but the feeling is growing. I'm ready to search for an exit until Katniss's guest walks in.

"I thought I'd come early and surprise you," the woman says. "Besides, I wanna see the little Peeta and Katniss. I went by the bakery, but Peeta looked _mad._ He was screaming at that boy again. What's his name? Rory? I don't know, but they were going at it." Her eyes are brown and wide-set. Her hair is short and spiky. Her frame is thin, but she's about as tall as Katniss. I know her. The moment she sees me, I know she knows me too.

"Johanna…" Katniss starts, but Johanna spots me.

She tilts her head to the side and raises a brow as I rise to my feet. "Well, what do we have here? Katniss, I didn't think of you as one to have an affair."


	8. The Trouble Maker

_**A/N: Wow, you guys really like Gale's POV. lol. I think that chapter got the most reviews thus far. This chapter may seem like another dribble, pointless chapter, but there is important stuff in there. It's a lot of dialogue, but in my mind it fit's the character's POV. Hopefully, you guys like it. You know the deal. Reviews=quicker update.**_

_**This chapter is dedicated to my best friend who always has my back. I know I'll always be able to count on you to put me back in my place, even when it's not what I want to hear. Broski for life. Woo woo woo ::says like Zack Ryder::  
><strong>_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

_**Chapter 8 – The Trouble Maker**_

* * *

><p><em>If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea,<br>I'll sail the world to find you  
>If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see,<br>I'll be the light to guide you_

_Find out what we're made of  
>When we are called to help out friends in need<em>

_You can count on me like 1, 2, 3  
>I'll be there<br>And I know when I need it I can count on you like 4, 3, 2  
>And you'll be there<br>Cause that's what friends are supposed to do_

"_Count on Me" Bruno Mars_

* * *

><p>I don't mean to cause panic. Ok, maybe I do. It's fun. The look some people get when they hear me say or see me do something they don't expect is priceless. For instance, Katniss didn't expect me to arrive as early as I did. She looked pretty surprised. Then she goes and shocks me. I walk into her house and there on the tree looking couch Peeta picked was Gale Hawthorne. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about him. He didn't bother me much the little time I knew him, but all the same, he wasn't exactly the best…influence on Katniss. He had a mindset for war. He thought that everything was as simple as it seemed. Go to war. Fight. Kill people. War is over and we can live happily ever after.<p>

Yea, like that would happen. The war was like the Games: it never really goes away. Ask any victor that is still alive. We live with the pain of what we went through every day. When we close our eyes, all we see is death. When our eyes are open, we still see the horrible things we were put through. We rely on things to get our minds off of what we were forced to go through. But that wasn't the main reason I disliked Gale. No. My distaste went further than that. Before Katniss and Peeta got married, she – against my advice – wrote to Gale. When he didn't write back, she was hurt. I'm not sure what she was expecting, but I can tell you that letter was just a piece of a losing game.

Anyway, back to my surprise factor. Neither of them expected me to make the comment I did. The color from their faces drained and it would have been comical if I hadn't, for the briefest moment, thought that was what I was walking in on. That taste in my mouth Gale leaves grows even bitterer.

"Johanna, it's not what it…we weren't…I would never…" Katniss stutters.

I laugh through the uncomfortable feeling I have in my stomach. "Hey, I was kidding," I say. "I know he's no one important." I make sure the last part of my sentence is emphasized for even more effect. I want Gale to know he stands no chance against Peeta. I give Katniss a big smile and say, "Hey, I can really go for some coffee right now. That train ride was a killer. Would you mind making me some?"

She smiles back at me and nods. "Sure. I'll be right back."

The moment she walks into the kitchen, I drop the fake smile. I slowly turn on my heel and give Gale the dirtiest look I can. The man towers over me. He's a good six inches taller than me, but that doesn't matter. His lack of a spine makes him very small.

"It really wasn't what it looked like," Gale tries to explain.

"I really don't care what it wasn't," I spit. "I care about what it will never be. It will never be anything." I slowly make my way toward him. "You had your chance, Gale, and you let it slip through your fingers."

"I wasn't…"

"Shut up. I'm talking." I stood toe-to-toe with him, glaring right into his eyes. "As Katniss and Peeta's best friend…"

"You're not their best friend."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" He laughed and shook his head. "As I was saying, as their best friend, I will not allow some love-struck school boy ruin the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen. They're happy together. They have a very beautiful family together. Are you willing to break that up for your own selfish needs and desires?" He looked away. If he wasn't thinking about breaking them up when he came to District 12, he was now. "I'm warning you, Gale Hawthorne, if you try _anything_, I will cut the poor excuse for a male organ you have off and shove it down your throat as you sleep."

He was silent. He just looked down at me with this smug look. I wanted to punch him square in the nose. "You think I'm afraid of you?" he says in a low tone.

"You should be."

"I'm not."

"Then you're stupider than I thought. I won the Hunger Games, not a beauty pageant."

"Obviously."

"I will _cut_ you. The military doesn't train you to fend off an angry woman. I'm going to say this to you one time: do not mess with my family."

"Your family?"

"Yes, _my_ family. I was there when Katniss promised to spend the rest of her life with Peeta. I was the first one she called when she found out she was pregnant with Juliet. I was the first person they let hold Aden. I'm his godmother. Every year, I come _here_ for the Remembrance Day and I stand with them as they mourn the people and things they've lost. They are my family and I'll be damned if you hurt them." We stare at each other for a moment, sizing the other person up. If he isn't afraid of me, he's a damn fool. He has no idea what I'm capable of and how far I would go to protect Katniss and Peeta. "I think it's time for you to go."

I could tell he wanted to say something, maybe wait for Katniss to walk in and tell him to stay. But he didn't. He walked around me and out the front door. I take a deep breath and put another smile on my face. Right on time too. Katniss walks back into the room with the coffee I had asked for.

"Oh, thank you," I say as I take the cup. "You have no idea how much I needed this."

"You're welcome," she smiles. "Where'd Gale go?"

"Hm? Oh. He had to go. He said to tell you goodbye."

She doesn't buy it, but she says nothing. She won't question Gale's quick departure because then she would have to admit the fact that he had impure intentions. I mean, I'd have to tell her why I shooed him away and why he didn't correct me when I called him out on what he was after. It doesn't take a genius to see she wanted to think the best of Gale. She needed a piece of her old life back and Gale was all she had left of it.

"So, where is my godson?" I ask.

"With his father," Katniss replies as we sit on the couch. "Peeta took him to work before I had a chance to protest. They should be home soon." I nod and sip at my coffee. "He's been asking about you for days. He wanted to pick you up at the train station."

"Aw. That's my boy. What about Juliet? How's she liking school?"

"She loves it; has a lot of friends. She gets being personable from Peeta. God knows I hated school."

"I think we all did back then." I debate whether or not to ask the next question. I know it's a fear that Katniss had when she first got pregnant. "Have they taught them about the Games?"

Katniss shakes her head slowly. She's told me before she's afraid of how her kids will react to learning that their rag-tag family was part of the Hunger Games – from "Grandpa" Haymitch, to Aunt Annie and yours truly, right down to Mommy and Daddy. Especially Mommy and Daddy.

"I'm just scared she'll hear about it from an older kid," Katniss confesses. "I'm surprised we've been able to shield her from it for this long. And how do we explain to her about how we were involved? Remember when Finn found out?"

Finnick "Finn" Odair Jr. was every bit like his father. He was charming, smart, and had an odd obsession with sugar cubes. When he started school, it was hard for people not to associate him with his father. He looked exactly like Finnick – it was scary. In District 4, they don't teach you about the Games until you're 10. Five years ago, Annie called Katniss and I in tears, telling us that her son had come home asking how his parents could have done the things they did. He had held Finnick on a pedestal for his whole life, only to find out his dear old dad was a murderer. He didn't want to listen to reason. Finnick did what he had to do to stay alive. It took a long time for Finn to see the light. Not all people that were part of the Games were monsters.

"She'll understand it better. And if she doesn't, you have Peeta to help you explain it," I say. It's true. Peeta wouldn't leave that task to do herself. That's one thing Katniss has that Annie doesn't. Annie didn't have Finnick there to help her. She had to do it on her own. Katniss has a huge web of support in Peeta and Haymitch next door.

"You'll have me to help explain what?" I hear. I look up to see Peeta walking into the room with his double hanging off his back. "Hey Johanna. We weren't expecting you until tonight."

I stand to give Peeta a hug. He's warm from being surrounded by ovens and he smells like bread. It's kind of comforting. "I got in early," I say as he gives me in what can only be described as a Peeta hug. It's almost like a bear hug, but nicer. "You know I can't stay away."

"Aunty Jo!" Aden yells as he slides off his dad's back and wraps his chubby little arms around me. I love this kid. He's so cute and cuddly it makes me want to squeeze him. "I made you a cookie!"

He digs into his little apron and pulls out a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie. "It looks like someone got a little hungry on their way to bring this to me," I laugh as I take the treat. "Thank you, Aden. I love it. Aunty Jo got you something too."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a little wooden figurine. The stupid doctors thought I needed to find a hobby to help with my post-war stress. As if I was only stressed after the war. Idiots. Anyway, I'd taken up carving. Mostly figurines and other toys since all my friends were procreating. They'd all gotten over the fear of the Games returning. Not me though. I was determined to end up like Haymitch. Alone and attached to someone else's family. I think I could be happy with that.

Aden's smiles as he takes the toy from me. He holds it up to Peeta proudly, showing his father the latest addition to figurines. He takes off to put it in his room with the two dozen other ones I've made him since he was born.

"Peeta, can you take Johanna's stuff up to her room?" Katniss asks.

"Do I get a tip?" he teases.

"Yes, lay off the cupcakes sugar-pie," I joke, patting his belly.

He just rolls his eyes and grabs my bags. "I'm working on a six-pack."

"Six pack of beer," I yell as he heads up the stairs.

Katniss is just shaking her head at us and laughing. "You two are nuts," she jokes.

"But you love us."

She points at the stairs and says, "Him I have to. I'm stuck with him for life. You…"

"Not even funny," I laugh. I sit beside her on the couch and sip at my coffee. "Seriously, are you sure it's ok that I'm here?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"It looked like I was interrupting something when I got here."

Katniss sighed and put her cup down. "I told you that nothing was going on. Gale stopped by to talk and that's all."

"That's all to _you_ maybe."

"Not you too…"

"Katniss, seriously, the boy's trouble. He was fifteen years ago and he still is today. Just…be careful."

"He's not like that, Jo."

I shake my head. She can't really be this naïve. "We'll see." We sit in silence for a minute or two before Peeta's heavy footsteps announce his return.

"Ok, you're all set up," he smiles. "Anything else? I gotta go get Jules."

"I'll go with you," I say, jumping to my feet. Katniss looks up at me with a brow raised. "I miss the little princess. I can't want to surprise her too?"

I notice that Peeta's staring at me too now. These two are too suspicious of everything and everyone. I can't blame them though. Katniss was a pawn in the war, used by Coin to get what she wanted. And Peeta…I can still hear his screams at night. They tortured him day and night to the point where he would pass out, only to be woken to be tortured again. They made me watch as they injected him over and over again with the tracker jacket venom. I watched as he slowly lost his mind. They'd found the most brilliant way to torture the most innocent boy in the world: take away the memories he had of Katniss. The more he struggled to hold on to them, the more painful their punishments became. I'm sorry to say, I had begged them once to put him out of his misery. I couldn't stand seeing him in so much pain. I just wanted it to end.

"Ok, let's go," Peeta says finally. "She doesn't like to be kept waiting."

I jump to my feet and follow Peeta out the door. He still finds it awkward to be around me alone sometimes. I assume it's because he still hears my screams in his head too. They're pretty hard to forget when it's all you hear for days, weeks, months…however long they kept us. We walk a fair distance apart. I can tell that he has things on his mind, but he's never been one to talk about them.

"So, Gale Hawthorne…" I say. "Must be weird huh?"

"Why?" he asks. There's no edge in his voice. He seriously doesn't see how this whole thing is fucked?

"Come on, Peeta. You can't tell me that you're ok with him being back."

"Johanna, I really don't have much of a say in it. He's free to come and go as he pleases. District 12 will always be his home."

"Yea, but you have a say in how much time he spends with your wife while he's here."

He sighs loudly, "Seriously, do people think I tell her what to do? She's allowed to have friends."

"A friend? You think Gale's just a friend? You and I…we're friends. You and Delly, you're friends. Gale and Katniss…that's different. They had something before."

"Before. As in no longer. She made her choice."

"And what if he's trying to change her mind?"

"Can we please stop talking about this?"

"Why Peeta? Because it's uncomfortable?" I laugh. "You still live in this perfect world in your head where everything's all rainbows and lollipops."

I can see him clenching his fists at his sides and I wonder if I'm pushing too much. But if I don't, I doubt anyone will make them see what they're doing is wrong. Allowing Gale Hawthorne to be part of their lives like this isn't right.

"Don't tell me about what goes on in my head," Peeta says through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," I apologize sincerely. "I just don't want you guys to get hurt. I mean, when I saw Gale at the house today…"

"Gale was at the house?"

I stop walking to see Peeta had stopped a few steps back. His face showed pure shock. He didn't know. Of course he didn't. "Huh?" is all I can say. Shit. I'm trying to defuse the situation, not set off the bomb.

"Gale. He was at my house? Alone? With Katniss?"

"I never…I mean…"

"Johanna," he says in a tone that makes me uncomfortable. He has a wild look in his eyes as he closes the gap between us in two simple strides. "Was he in my house alone with Katniss?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. I want to be anywhere but here. "I'm not sure how long. I just got there and he was there. I'm sure it was nothing."

Peeta exhales loudly and turns away. I step back from him, afraid that another episode is on its way. I've been around him long enough to see the signs. When it happens, he's no longer that sweet boy with a heart of gold and a smile that melts your heart. No. He's a vicious animal. I've seen him demolish a room before. He was like a human wrecking ball, just tearing everything down in his path.

"Peeta, I didn't mean to…" I start, but I don't get the chance to finish.

"It's fine," he says quickly. "It's probably nothing. Come on. We can't be late."

I don't say anything the rest of the way to the school. I'm afraid to at this point. I'm causing too many unnecessary problems. I can't help it. Seeing Gale at the house today just made me panic. I always figured that if these two could have a happily-ever-after, anyone could. Including me.

"So, how long are you going to be in town?" Peeta asks.

"Indefinitely. Why? Trying to get rid of me already?" I tease.

"I always am." I laugh. He could never stay mad at anyone for every long. It's a good and bad thing. "Seriously, Katniss said that you might be looking to settle down?"

I shrug. "Possibly." I don't know what I want to be honest. Part of me is so used to being alone I don't think I can settle down. Then there's the part of me that misses having people around that I care about. I travel between District 4 and 12 so much, I'm ready to sell my house in 7. I want what Peeta and Katniss have. What Annie and Finnick had. I want someone to lean on, share the burden of life with. But as I said earlier, I'm still afraid. I think I can be happy being alone forever.

"You know, you always have a home here if you want it," Peeta says. "I know it's hard to let go of the past, but we have to move forward. After all we've been through, we deserve to be happy. All of us." I just nod. "And who knows, maybe you'll find someone here."

I laugh. "I'm here like three times a year. I know everyone. I doubt I'll find someone new."

Peeta just smirks. "Maybe you've met him and just don't realize it yet. Fate has an odd way of playing out."

I don't have time to ask him what he means because a bell cuts through the air. I look up to see we've arrived at the school and little Juliet Mellark is running right toward us. She's excited to see me and she's talking a mile a minute. I try to listen, but I can't focus. I can't shake Peeta's words from my mind. I have a feeling that fate has a long journey in store for us all.


	9. Warning Signs

_**A/N: I've owed this to you guys for weeks and I am so very sorry it's taken so long to get it up. My one week of overnights truned into three and I sleep all day when I have to work those. Also, for anyone following my other story "Humans and Heroes", I will get that update in the next few days. I'm sorta back to regular shifts so I should be getting back to the swing of things soon. Accept my apology and review. lol. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I didn't have time to edit and I wanted it all in so it may be kinda wacky but hey, that's me. Enjoy!  
><strong>_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.**_

_**Chapter 9 – Warning Signs**_

* * *

><p><em>Let the world stops turning<br>Let the sun stop burning  
>Let them tell me love is not worth going through<br>If it all falls apart  
>I will know deep in my heart<br>The only dream that mattered had come true  
>In this life I was loved by you<em>

"_In This Life" Israel Kamakawiwo'ole_

* * *

><p>"Alright, I'm here. Let's get this over with." Those are the first words out of Haymitch's mouth when I open the door for him. He pushes past me and into the house with his ever present frown on his face.<p>

"It's nice to see you too," I tease as I shut the door and follow my guest.

"You're lucky I even came, Pretty Boy." Sometimes I wonder how he comes up with the nicknames he has for us. "There better be booze."

"You know Katniss doesn't like alcohol in the house."

"Oh please. You make one mistake and she bans the stuff. You know, Peeta, you need to start standing up for yourself. Tell the little woman how it's going to be. Your way or the highway or whatever the stupid expression calls for."

I just roll my eyes. Haymitch hasn't been in a romantic relationship with a woman in such a long time, I wonder if he even knows how to act around them. The things he says can be a bit alpha male. "Being married means compromising; not telling the other what they can or cannot do or have."

Haymitch chuckles to himself. "You let her do whatever she wants don't you."

I raise my brow at the older man. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask with an edge in my voice.

Haymitch walked over to me and spoke so that only he and I could hear. "Oh come on. You want to act like you don't care about that stupid soldier, but you do. That boy is getting too comfortable around here. He's getting too comfortable around _your wife_."

"I trust Katniss. Why doesn't anyone believe me?"

"Oh we all believe you. We just don't believe you trust Hawthorne. He was here earlier. He was in this house with Katniss while you were at the bakery working your ass off."

"She isn't having an affair."

"I never said she was. I'm saying that boy is going to make his move and he's going to do it when you're not around. He knows she won't tell you. She won't hurt you by telling you about something _almost_ happening. He's smart. You better be careful with that one."

"You sound really paranoid right now."

"You know I'm right. I may be old and haven't been close to anyone but you, Katniss, and the kids, but I still can see the signs of a man wanting something that's not his. Your father loved Katniss's mother almost as much as you love Katniss. He would have married her if it weren't for Katniss's father. Don't let the miner into the bakery."

All I can do is stare at Haymitch. He may be crazy, but he has a point. I hate to admit it, but he does. "I have no idea what keeping a miner out of the bakery has to do with any of this."

Haymitch throws his arms up and rolls his eyes at me. "Fine! Don't listen to me. Mark my words: you'll regret it. You'll see you should have listened to crazy old Haymitch."

I chuckle and put my arm around my mentor's shoulder. "You're not _that_ old." Haymitch growled and ducked under my arm. "I'm listening. Don't worry. I just want to give him a chance. Maybe we're all wrong about Gale."

"Yea and I'm going to be sober by the end of the week. You want to see the good in everyone, Peeta. It's noble, but it's stupid."

Before I could say anything, Aden and Juliet came running down the stairs, screaming at the top of their lungs. "Grandpa Haymitch!" they screamed as they ran to the older man.

"There you two are," Haymitch grins as he hugs my kids at the same time. "Your old man was staring to bore me. Thank God I have you two to save me."

"You're funny Grandpa Haymitch," Aden laughs. "Aunt Jo got me another soldier!"

"Did she? Seems to be a lot of those in this house lately." I glare at Haymitch, warning him not to say another word about Gale or soldiers. "Anyway, how was Juliet's day?"

"Good," she smiles shyly. "We learned about all the jobs in the District."

"They still teach kids that?" Haymitch laughed. "Outdated idiots. Listen kid, you can be anything you want. Don't let the stupid schools tell you what to do."

"Haymitch, language," I sigh.

"I could have said a lot worse, you know."

"Yes, I know. Thank you for the refrain." Haymitch releases Aden and Juliet and they take off running toward the living room. Haymitch is about to follow when I catch his arm. "Not another word out of you about this Gale business," I warn. "I want this to be a calm, civil evening for once."

"Son, you dream big, but I hate to break it to you. It's never calm or civil when it comes to this bunch. Do me a favor and think about what I said."

"What'd you say?" Katniss asks as she comes down the stairs. She stands beside me and I put my arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to me. "What did you say, Haymitch?"

Haymitch thought about Katniss's question. He was trying to answer it without raising any flags or starting any arguments. He's learned to hold his tongue over the years.

"I was just telling Peeta that he should think about opening another business. A restaurant or something so that you can make more money off the game you bring in." I have to admit, it was a great cover up. His idea wasn't too bad either. "But I was saying he needs to beware of those that might try to take advantage of his business. They'll steal from him right in front of his face."

I roll my eyes. And there he goes. "I can handle my own," I say warningly.

"You should take the help people are offering. They just want to help."

"Haymitch, I don't need any help. There's nothing to worry about."

"I don't know, Peeta," Katniss chimes in. "Haymitch has a point. I'm not saying people from here will steal from you, but there are out of towners that will try to take advantage of you."

I can see the smirk on Haymitch's face and I just want to slap it right off. If Katniss only knew what we were really talking about, I doubt she would be agreeing with our former mentor.

"Hey, are we gonna eat or what?" Johanna asks as she pops her head into the room. "We're starving in here."

"When did she get here?" Haymitch asks.

"Nice to see you too, old man."

"I ought to send Effie to your house someday. We'll see if you still have that attitude when she's done with you."

"Still keeping in touch with Miss Manners? There's a love connection there you're denying."

"Love connection with _that _God forsaken woman? I'd rather chew my own leg off. No offense, Peeta."

"None taken, I guess," I laugh. "Ok, that's enough you two. Don't make me separate you."

"She started it," Haymitch grumbles.

"Did not!" Johanna shouts.

"Hey! Keep it up and no dessert for either of you," I threaten. "Now, wash your hands and march your butts to the table." Our guests stalk off as I call after them, "I better see smiles on those faces when I get in there!" I sigh and let out a low chuckle. "Since when did we have four kids?"

"I could have sworn I only pushed two out," Katniss jokes. "I think we just got stuck with the others."

"Can we leave those two in the woods?"

"No, they'll just find their way back." We both just laugh. "I love our family though."

"I love our kids. The others I have to tolerate." Katniss laughs and shoves my chest. "You know, I wouldn't mind our family growing."

"We're not getting another pet. That stupid cat lived forever and that's enough for a lifetime."

"I'm not talking about pets."

"And I'm not talking about _that_."

I smile and nod. We'll come back to the idea of more kids sooner or later. It took some convincing the first two times and I really don't want to push it. We head into the dining room to find that the table has been set already. Haymitch sits on one side of the table with Juliet beside him and Johanna sits on the other with Aden. The four of them are deep in a conversation about the different jobs Juliet learned about in school.

"They said a long time ago every District had a main job for the country," Juliet says as Katniss and I take our places at the table. "My teacher said District 12 was Panem's mining district and we provided the coal for the whole country."

"Daddy makes bread," Aden says proudly. I can't help but smile at how proud of me he is.

"How come you didn't become a miner?" Juliet asks.

"Well, my daddy was a baker and so was his daddy and his daddy before him. Our family has been making bread for District 12 for as long as anyone can remember. But that doesn't mean you have to become a baker. You can be anything you want."

"Did you ever want to be a miner?"

"I did." Katniss looks extremely surprised by my confession. I can't blame her. All she has ever known me to be was a baker. In District 12, people from where I grew up didn't even think about working in the mines. Our lives were predetermined, just like those in the Seam.

"I thought Daddy likes baking," Aden says.

"Daddy loves to bake."

"Then how come you wanted to be a miner?" Juliet asks.

I laugh a little. All anyone has ever seen me as – or anyone in the Mellark family come to think of it – is a baker. Yes, I am also a painter, but I am a baker by trade. Anything else is simply unthinkable. "When I was Juliet's age, I saw this _very _beautiful girl," I explain. "I knew that she was the one for me. When I told my dad, he told me that he knew her mommy. He loved her mommy more than the sun and the moon and the stars. When they grew up, the girl's mommy married a miner, not my daddy. I thought that if I became a miner, that girl might marry me one day too."

"But you a baker," Aden points out.

"I am."

"So you didn't marry the girl?" Juliet asks.

I look up at Katniss and smile. "Actually, I did. Turns out the beautiful girl liked my cheese buns," I say with a wink.

"Momma was the pretty girl!" Aden claps excitedly.

"Momma _is_ the pretty girl."

I hear Haymitch nearly choke at my last comment. He's about to make a snide comment – I know the man so well I know when these things are coming – when the doorbell rings.

"I didn't know we were expecting," Katniss says.

"You two never do," Johanna jokes.

I roll my eyes and push away from the table. "I'll get it," I say.

I head to the front door, really unsure of who would be on the other side. Part of me wondered if it would be Gale. Would he intrude on our family dinner and come into my home thinking I'm the only one oblivious to the fact he had been here hours before, alone with my wife? If it is him, how will I react? Will I confront him? No. Of course not. I wouldn't do something like that in front of my children. They've been exposed to so much already; they don't need to see the troubles of the past. Then again, it would make me look weak in their eyes. I'll be Peeta Mellark, their father, the push over. These are the debates I must mull over in my head in the five second trip to the door. Luckily, my confrontation debate will be held off because when I open the door, another Hawthorne is standing on the other side.

"Rory? What are you doing here?" I ask. Rory is standing on my front porch with his head hung. He is still in his work clothes and he is fiddling with his apron in his hands.

"I'm sorry to disturb you and your family so late," he says in a sad tone. "I just wanted to drop this off." He holds out the apron to me, still unable to look me in the eye. "I'm sorry Mr. Mellark. I was out of line earlier and I…I understand if you wouldn't like me to work for you anymore."

I stare at Rory for a moment. He is a grown man in appearance. He is about 5'11", broad shoulders, and a constant five o'clock shadow. But underneath it all, he's still a child. His feelings are hurt easily and he is afraid to disappoint those he looks up to. He has been missing a stable father figure nearly all his life. He barely knew his father and Gale had left just as quickly. For half his life, he has looked up to me in ways I hope that Aden will someday too.

Earlier, as promised, I tried to convince Rory to reach out to his older brother and give him a chance to at least explain himself. It quickly went downhill. Rory said some things that were hurtful and out of line, but it was when he brought up my brother I had lost it. I snapped and told him that he was a child. He was going to say anything he wanted to hurt me – which he had succeeded in doing. I accused him of using me as a scape goat and only befriending me to mock his brother. I was his form of vengeance against Gale and I wouldn't take it anymore. I left him dumbfounded in the bakery and told him I better not see him in the morning or God help me what I might do to him. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done if I was still angry.

I let out a sigh and push the apron back to Rory. "One, it's Peeta, not Mr. Mellark," I say. "I thought we went over this years ago. Second, are you quitting?"

"No," Rory says. "I just thought you wanted me to."

I laugh. "Kid, I never wanted you to quit. I was angry. We both said some things that we didn't mean, but I would never fire you or ask you to quit."

"But you were right Peeta." He finally looks up at me and I can see the heart break in his eyes. "I was being a stupid kid and you trusted me with so many responsibilities. I let you down. I'm sorry. I…" He paused and took a deep breath. "Earlier, you said that I only became your friend to spite my brother. That I never really saw you as someone important in my life. That isn't true. I never thought we would be friends, but I'm glad we are. One day, I…I hope I can be as good as a man as you."

I'm taken back by Rory's confession. I knew that I was someone he looked up to, but to have him say he wants to be like me was a shock. I had no idea he respected me that much.

"Rory, I…I don't know what to say," I say honestly.

"You don't have to say anything. I'm sorry, again. I promise I'll do better to be the man you expect me to be. Good night. Tell Katniss and the kids I send my love."

I look over my shoulder as Rory turns to leave. "Hey, why don't you come in? We sat down for dinner not too long ago. Join us."

He stops and looks at me. He shakes his head. "I couldn't."

I step outside to grab his arm and drag him in. "Sure you can. I'm not taking 'no' for an answer." I half-drag him into the dining room. When we enter, everyone looks up at us. They all seem a bit surprised, but smile at Rory. "Hey everyone, Rory came by to say hello and he is now going to join us for dinner."

Katniss and the kids say hello as Haymitch mumbles something under his breath. "Hey…Rory right?" Johanna greets. Rory opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out, so he nods. "Here, you can sit next to me. Little dude here is just about done with his food and I doubt you'd wanna have dinner ruined by sitting next to that slob." She points her fork at Haymitch, who just gives her the evil eye.

"Th…thank you Miss Mason," Rory finally manages to get out.

I'm trying to remember the last time I heard Rory stutter or sound…nervous. I'm not sure why he's suddenly anxious until he sits beside Johanna. He can't stop shaking his leg and he won't look up from his plate. I laugh to myself when it hits me. The boy has a crush on Johanna.

"What's so funny?" Haymitch growls.

"Your face," Katniss replies on cue. Haymitch looks up at her quickly, surprised that she – of all people – made the joke. "Problem?"

"You've been married to him too long," he grumbles.

"Please," I huff, "forever isn't even long enough."

* * *

><p>I'm thankful Johanna volunteers to clean up after dinner because, to be honest, I am exhausted. It seems like everyone wanted to tell me how to live my life today. From Rory to Johanna and even Haymitch – who tries his best to stay out of my personal affairs as much as possible. Even my weekly phone call seemed to be a bit demanding. Trying to please everyone is an exhausting task. I tell myself that I can't please everyone, but the idiot in me still tries. Letting people down isn't something I can just do. Katniss is in bed when I come stumbling into our bedroom and collapse beside her.<p>

"Tired?" she asks as she strokes my hair.

"You have no idea," I chuckle.

"I was surprised to see Rory. I heard you two had at it earlier."

"We did," I say as I look up at her. "Who told you?"

"Johanna."

I nod slowly as I straighten out on my side and get under the covers. "Seems she's talkative today."

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing." I let out a sigh as I lean into my pillows. "I think Rory likes her."

Katniss looks at me with a brow raised. "Who?"

"Johanna." She blinks at me silently. "Oh come on. You didn't notice how he got really uncomfortable around her earlier?"

"A lot of people are uncomfortable around Johanna. _I'm_ uncomfortable around her sometimes."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. She still walks around naked, you know."

"Thanks for the heads up," I laugh.

"It's none of our business if they have a thing going anyway. I don't like when people are in ours so I think we should stay out of other peoples."

I continue to stare forward. Funny she should bring that up. "I guess."

"You guess? Peeta, people have had their noses in our lives for seventeen years. We have no sense of privacy. That doesn't bother you?"

"I just think that if people have their best interest at heart it's ok for them to say something." Katniss huffs and shakes her head. She obviously doesn't like my response. "If there was something going on I should know about, why not someone tell me? I mean, I wouldn't want to be left in the dark. Don't you agree?" She stays silent. She's angry with me. Again. It tends to happen when I don't take her side on things. "I swear I'm surrounded by children." That comment earns me a punch to my arm. "Oh yea, that _really_ makes me think twice about calling you a child."

"Why can't you just take my side for once?"

"What are you talking about?" I say half laughing, half in frustration. "I'm always siding with you! When I don't agree with you, I side with you! I'm just saying that if something wasn't serious, it wouldn't be a secret."

"Whatever," she grumbles. "Is this about your stupid call?"

"Stupid call? Lovely. She asks about you, you know."

"I don't care."

"Yea, I know you don't. Aden talked to her."

"You let her talk to my son?"

"I let her talk to _our_ son. She has a right you know."

"She does not."

"For someone that wants me to take them seriously and stop calling them a child, you sure do act like a big baby."

"Why don't you go sleep on your stupid tree couch?"

"You don't think it's so stupid when we're having sex on it."

"You're an idiot."

"Well you married me."

"Sometimes I wonder why I said yes." Suddenly, the tension in the room is overwhelming. Neither of us speaks as the words of her last statement linger in the air. After a few minutes, I hear her take in a sharp breath. "Peeta, I…I didn't mean that."

I shift a bit in my space and put some distance between us. "Well, you said it."

"But I didn't mean it."

"Yea, but you said it Katniss!" It's silent again.

A light rap on the door cuts through the air like a knife. "Everything ok in there?" we hear Johanna ask through the door.

Katniss swallows hard before struggling out a response. "Yea," she says. "Just…we're ok."

It isn't believable at all, but Johanna has no choice but to accept it. "Ok. I'm going to be in my room if you need me. You know, down the hall. Two doors down."

"Good night Johanna," I say sharply. I'm pretty sure I hear her make some smart-ass response through the door, but that's the least of my worries. "I never forced you to marry me."

"I know you didn't. Look, I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean it to sound like it did," Katniss tries to reason.

"What did you mean then?" I shake my head. "You're not the easiest person to get along with either you know that? After I found you in that tub, I couldn't believe you could be so selfish. You didn't care about all the people that would miss you. All you cared about was yourself."

"Why do you always bring that up?" she asks in a whisper.

"So you never forget it happened, because God knows I won't."

I feel her hand touch my arm, followed by her head on my shoulder. Once again, I've managed to hurt her. As angry as I am at her, I feel even more pissed off at myself for making her feel that way. It's a vicious, vicious cycle that will never stop.

"I'm tired," I say as I turn out of her grasp. I sink under the covers with my back to my wife.

I think she's stunned by my actions because there is no shift in weight from her side of the bed, indicating she is still in the position I'd left her in. We stay this way for a few moments until she finally speaks.

"Peeta?" she calls.

"Yes?" I ask.

She lets out a heavy sigh and says, "Good night." She finally lies down and turns off the light.

I lay in the dark as she drifts off to sleep. I doubt an easy, comfortable sleep will come tonight. How can it? I just realized that my wife is hiding something from me. Our friends were right. She won't tell me about Gale. There is more to what happened today than she will let on.

* * *

><p>I have no idea what time it is when I wake, but the room is still dark as the moon streams through the small slits between our shades. I can feel Katniss stirring beside me. It's what woke me after all. I look over my shoulder at her. The moonlight illuminates the beads of sweat forming along her forehead. Her movements become sharper, more erratic. I can hear her whimpers.<p>

I roll onto my side so I face her. "Katniss," I call sleepily as I shake her shoulder. "Katniss, wake up."

She doesn't respond. She continues to move violently in her sleep. Her whimpers start to turn into words. "No," she moans. "No, please, no."

"Katniss," I call again, shaking her harder this time.

"Peeta. Peeta. Peeta! NO! Don't leave!" she calls out in sobs. "Please no! Don't take him!"

She's thrashing around now. Tears stream down her face as she continues to call for me, begging an unseen assailant to leave me be. I sit up, fully awake now, and take her shoulders.

"Katniss!" I yell as I shake her. "Katniss, wake up! Wake up!" Her body starts to shake on its own as the tears flow freely from her eyes. My heart begins to race and I feel my own tears threatening to fall. "KATNISS! Katniss wake up! Please, wake up!"

She hasn't had a nightmare like this in years. I can usually lull her out of them, but this one has a firm grasp on her and it is threatening to take her from me. I pull her close to my chest, holding her firmly against my body.

"Please, Katniss, wake up," I beg. "Stay with me, baby. Come on. Stay with me!"

It feels like forever when she finally clutches my shirt, holding onto me for dear life.

"Peeta?" she asks as if she isn't sure I'm real. I look down at her and see that her eyes are blood shot from crying.

"It's me," I say. "I'm right here." She buries her face into my chest as she starts to cry again. "Shh. It's ok. I'm right here, sweetheart. Stay with me now."

Stay with me. Three simple words she once told me to keep me alive. I use them now to pull her from the nightmares that haunt her as she slumbers. Who knew that three words could do so much?

I'm still rocking her against my chest telling her to stay with me when the bedroom door flies open. Johanna stands in the doorway in her pajamas with a panicked look in her eyes. I shake my head and wave her off, telling her I have the situation under control. She stays in the door way for a moment to be sure I really do have things under control before turning to leave.

"They tried to take you from me," Katniss cries. "They were going to take everyone."

"I'm not going anywhere," I assure her. "Not now. Not ever."

"He took them. Don't let him take them, Peeta."

I look up at Johanna who has frozen in the hall. She's staring at me with frightened eyes. I'm not sure who "he" is, but it's sending a chill down my spine. "I won't let anyone take them. I promise. I won't let anything happen to our family."

That's when I notice the bright blue eyes and messy blond hair peeking out from around Johanna's legs. I stare right at Juliet and Aden as I hold their mother, attempting to keep her monsters at bay.

"It's ok Katniss," I say as her sobs begin to calm. "Everything will be ok. Just…stay with me."


	10. Second Chances

_**A/N: Well hello strangers. I know it has been (literally) years since I've last updated and I do apologize. Life got the best of me, but I've been itching to write – and not just because of the recent release of a certain movie. I'll be doing more writing (hopefully) and getting it all out to you as soon as possible.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places.**_

**Chapter 10 – Second Chances**

* * *

><p>I've been working at the bakery for a good 13 years now. I never intended to; it was an accident. Punishment really. At least that's how it started. The war had just ended and we came home to 12 – me, mom, Vick, and Posey. Gale didn't even want to come home one last time before ditching us. The entire District was still in ruins. I remember people were being flooded into the homes left standing in Victor's Village until they cleaned up and rebuilt the District. For a while, we were living in worse conditions than we had before the bombs, but we did what we could with what we had.<p>

Teachers, healers, and merchants went back to work almost immediately. The guys that used to work the mines did most of the construction, so they were gainfully employed as well. Mom, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. She was a house keeper and no one really had a house to keep. Money was scarce and we were feeling that all too familiar pain in the pits of our stomachs from lack of food. I was still too young to work construction or in the mines. I couldn't hunt and I can't skin a dog and make it into soup. We were starving. We were desperate. I had to do something. I'm not proud of what I did, but I did what I had to.

The Merchant Section was one of the first places finished. A lot of the surviving members of families that owned a business started up again. First shop to open their doors: Mellark Bakery. Despite his...condition, Peeta went right back to work. He took a lot of his frustration and worked off that crap the Capitol pumped into him by rebuilding his family's bakery right where the old one had been. I don't know how he could run a business and take care of Katniss at the same time, but he did. He made it work. Back then, I didn't understand how he could want to kill her, yet love her at the same time. It's sick if you ask me.

Anyway, back to my story. Posey had gotten sick and Mom needed to stay home and take care of her. She already had very little work, so staying home meant near to nothing as an income. Gale would send money from his fancy new job, but it wasn't enough. He should have been home taking care of us. They had Peacekeeper jobs in 12. Why couldn't he just do that and be with us? It's because he's selfish. He only thinks of himself. We were starving and he could care less. To top it off, it was Mom's birthday.

I needed to get out of the house. It was getting really depressing. I wandered around and somehow ended up in the Merchant Section. Of all the things to have caught my attention, it was the smell of freshly baked bread. It was so warm and inviting. My feet and nose brought me right to the bakery. I remember looking through the glass windows at all the different bread loaves and pastries. Peeta walked out of the back area with a rack of bread. I was supposed to hate this guy. I wasn't exactly sure why, but I knew that I was supposed to. After all, Gale did. Then again, Gale was a jackass.

I wandered into the bakery unnoticed. I looked through the glass cases at the intricate designs and braids the bread was in. Peeta was an artist. He made something a simple as bread into something amazing. Then there were the pastries. I don't know how to describe it, but they were almost too beautiful to eat. The details on the cakes were so clean and precise. The frosting and piping were flawless. He even drew pictures on the frosted cookies and cupcakes for the kids. I would have given anything to give just a stupid cupcake to my mom for her birthday. She deserved something.

That's when I decided to do something stupid. Peeta was helping a customer, so I'm pretty sure he didn't notice me come in. I kept my head down and did my best to stay unnoticed. I could hear the customer thank Peeta and head out the door. In the corner of my eye, I could see him retreating to the back. Now was my chance. I grabbed a small loaf of bread and a cupcake with purple and yellow frosting. I tucked the bread into my jacket and headed for the door. I was almost home free.

"Ahem," I heard. I froze. Shit. I turned my head to see Haymitch Abernathy slouching in a chair about a foot from the door with his head down. How did I not see him earlier? "Forget something, kid?"

If you've never been caught stealing, it's the worst feeling in the world. Your heart starts pounding; you sweat involunteerily; and worst of all, you feel like you're suffocating. Haymitch's gray eyes burn a hole right through me. It hits me that he is one of my mother's clients. In fact, it's Peeta Mellark that set up for my mom to visit Haymitch three times a week to clean his home. I may have just cost my family their livelihood. I start backing away from the old man, unsure of what else to do. I think to myself, '_Maybe if I put the stuff back, he won't say anything.'_ It's a long shot, but all I can think of doing. When I turn around, I hit a wall. At least I thought it was a wall. Of course it wasn't. It was Peeta. The cupcake in my hands smashed right into his apron, staining the white canvass.

I looked up at him, completely and utterly terrified. I expected him to be angry, his eyes like daggers staring down at the little thief of a brother of his greatest enemy. Again, I'm wrong. Peeta's blue eyes weren't red with rage, but as blue as ever. He looks confused and unsure of what the hell is going on. I need to take it and run. Literally. I turn on my heel and bolt out the door. The loaf of bread I had stuffed in my jacket falls out, but I don't dare stop to try to retrieve it. I run and try to find a hiding spot. Peeta won't run after me. He can't; not with his artificial leg. I'm glad for that too. A really shitty thing to say, but at least I'm being honest. I'm crouching behind a stack of crates when I look back toward the bakery. I sort of expected Peeta to be calling over a peacekeeper to tell them to hunt me down. But he doesn't.

Peeta slowly makes his way out of the bakery and scans the area, still looking confused. He spots the bread on the ground and bends down to pick it up. He sighs with a concerned look on his face and looks around one more time before heading back inside. I stand up, confused that is all Peeta was doing. I did the only thing I could think of: I went home. I went straight to my room, telling my mom I wasn't feeling well. I paced around the room for a bit, trying to figure out what was going to happen next. It wasn't that long before I heard someone knocking at the front door. It wouldn't have mattered to me if I hadn't heard the voice of our visitor.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Hawthorne," Peeta greeted.

"Peeta," my mom said in genuine surprise, "this is a nice surprise. What can I do for you?"

Oh no. He came to rat me out. He was going to out me to my mother. I ran out my door and headed to the front of the house. Maybe there was something I could do to stop him...

"Oh nothing. Rory was in the bakery earlier and he just forgot some things," Peeta said. I stopped in my tracks and stared at the blonde man at the door. He was looking at me with this look as if to tell me he was going to keep my secret. "He said it was your birthday and he wanted to get some bread, but he forgot his money. Isn't that right, Rory?"

My mom turned around and smiled at me. What was Peeta up to? "Um...yea," was all I could think of saying.

"He reminded me it was your birthday too." Peeta handed my mom a bag filled with bread and pulled another box from another bag he had with him. When he opened it, there was a cupcake identical to the one I had tried to take earlier inside of it. "This is on the house."

"Oh Rory," my mom gushed, putting her hand over her mouth. "I can't believe you did this. Thank you so much, sweetie. And you too, Peeta."

"Oh it's my pleasure," he smiled. "I should really be going though. I left Haymitch in charge of the bakery while I'm gone. Happy birthday, Mrs. Hawthorne." With a nod, he headed down the porch steps and made his way down the road.

"Hey mom, I'll be right back," I said. I rushed out the door, closing it behind me. It didn't take me long to catch up with Peeta. "Hey!" I called. He stopped and turned to face me. "What the hell are you doing?"

He chuckled. "Giving your family bread?"

"We don't need your charity."

"If you didn't, you wouldn't have tried to steal from me." I stood there with my mouth hung open. He got me there. "I know you don't like me because of your brother, but I won't let you starve. I couldn't live with myself if I did."

"So you're going to let me off the hook? Just like that?"

Peeta laughed and shook his head. "Oh hell no," he said. He reached into the bag he had with him and tossed a white cloth at me. When I unfolded it, I realized it wasn't a cloth. It was an apron. "I'll see you after school tomorrow. You're working your sentence off."

I told my mom I decided to work at the bakery to make some extra cash for the family. It was only supposed to be for a few weeks. At first, I made sure I let Peeta know how much I hated being there. I did all he asked with as much resistance as I could. Still, he was patient and kind to me. Haymitch, on the other hand, was always mumbling that Peeta was being too soft on me. He never let anything the old drunk said get to him though. He never let anything get to him. Eventually, I started to enjoy going to work. Peeta started to teach me how to decorate the cakes and shape the bread. He taught me tricks his dad taught him and his brothers when he was younger.

When I had served my time, I was kind of sad walking into Peeta's office with my apron in hand. He just looked up at me and smiled. He walked around his desk and held out an envelope. When I opened it, it was filled with cash. He said I had earned it. He told me to keep the apron as something to remember my time there and the lesson I learned. I went home that night and laid in bed, kind of sad that my forced time at the bakery was over. The next day, I grabbed my apron and headed back to the Mellark Bakery. I waited in front of the building before the sun was even up. When Peeta got there, he just smiled and told me that we had a lot of work to do.

The rest is history. Thirteen years later and I'm still wearing that same apron. I had realized that he was teaching me more than a lesson about stealing. He taught me to give people a second chance..and how to make kickass cinnamon rolls. Which brings me to the present. I was getting ready for work when Peeta called to let me know that Katniss had a rough night and he was going to stay home to take care of her.

"No, of course I understand," I tell him over the phone. "Don't worry, I got everything under control. Send her my love. Alright, I'll talk to you later. Bye." I hang up the phone and let out a sigh.

"Everything ok?" Vick asks as he leans against the counter, sipping on his morning coffee.

"Yea, Katniss just had a bad night so Peeta's gonna stay home. I'm the boss for the day."

"Cool. Nice that he trusts you."

"Well, I've been working for him for a decade and a half."

Vick nods and scratchs his beard. "It is a long time. Kinda funny, don't you think?"

I raise a brow at my brother. "What is?"

"You working for Peeta. We hated him growing up because of Gale. I mean, he turned out to be a pretty cool guy once we listened to him and got to know him."

"Vick..." I start to say in an accusing tone. I know he's headed somewhere with this, but I'm not too sure just where that is yet.

"Everyone has a story. Reasons they do things. We don't see the logic of it all until we actually stop and listen. We have to attempt to understand every aspect, every reasoning to every action."

"Enough with the psycho mumbo jumbo, would ya?"

My little brother just smiles at me. "That's my job, remember?" He puts his cup in the sink and pats me on the shoulder. "One thing I learned from Peeta: every story deserves to be told, heard, and understood. We may not agree with the things people do, but there is always a reason behind the action that may help us better understand the situation."

"I hate you, Victor."

"Love you too, bro." He grabbed his coat and put it on as he headed to the door.

I shake my head and chuckle. This is the kind of relationship I had wished for with Gale. I wanted to grow up with my big brother and be able to make jokes. I wanted to be close to him. But I couldn't. I wasn't. All because he didn't get what he wanted. "When did you get to be so smart?" I tease Vick.

"Probably the day you decided that Peeta Mellark wasn't the horrible person Gale led us to believe. The power of second chances." He gave me a sly smile as he walked out the door. "And tell Peeta he needs to answer my calls. I would rather he not miss another session."

I take a detour on my way to the bakery. I manage to talk the girl at the front desk of the hotel to give me Gale's room number. I'm standing in front of his door now, debating if I actually want to go through with this. Vick was right. Peeta taught us a lot of things in the last fifteen years. Especially that second chances were a way to mend wounds. If Katniss hadn't given him a second chance after the hijacking, he wouldn't have the beautiful family he does today. Fifteen years of shutting out my brother was long enough.

As much as I hate to admit it, I had attempted to replace Gale with Peeta. It wasn't intentional, but it wasn't difficult. The baker was naturally caring and wanted nothing more than to help others. He was a good man that put others before him. Gale, as much as he wanted to help people, tended to push people away in order to reach his own goals and get what he wanted. Gale was a leader, but Peeta was a brother.

I knock on the door and wait for someone to answer. I'm not sure what's taking so long, so I decide to knock again. Right before my fist hits the wood, the door swings open. I'm utterly confused when I see who is on the other side.

"Well you mull that over and call me when you figure it out," Johanna says as she walks out the door. She stops when she looks up and finds me in her way. "Oh. Rory, hi." I suddenly can't speak. I'm pretty sure I'm just standing here like an idiot with my mouth open. "Right...well, um, I'll see you later." My brain starts working again and I step aside to let her by.

I can see Gale heading over to the door, surprised to see me. Suddenly, my blood starts to boil. What the hell was going on here? What was Johanna doing here? The thought of her having spent the night here is pissing me off. My fists are balling up and I tighten my jaw.

"Rory," Gale says, "I didn't know you were coming. Is everything o..."

I don't know what came over me next. Everything is happening so quickly, I barely have time to register it. I reached back with my fist and threw my body into a punch, connecting with my brother's jaw. I'm suddenly standing over him and my hand hurts like hell. My blood is still pumping.

"You're a real piece of work," I spit. "You come here trying to steal another man's woman and have another in your hotel room. Stay the fuck away from Katniss. Stay the fuck away from the family. Stay the fuck away from me. You never should have come here, Gale. Just go back to where you came from. You're not wanted or needed here."

Before he can say anything, I'm headed down the hall. I think he's calling after me, but I don't care. This was a mistake. Not everyone deserves a second chance.


End file.
